


The King and the Burglar - Thirteen's a Company fourteen's a crowd

by goddessamonet



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Comedy, Dwarf & Hobbit Cultural Differences, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwarf/Hobbit Sex, F/M, Female Bilbo Baggins, Female Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Flirting, Friendship, Hobbit Courting, Hobbit Culture & Customs, Innuendo, M/M, Multi, Romance, Slow Burn, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-04-23 17:09:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 82,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14337156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddessamonet/pseuds/goddessamonet
Summary: Belladonna Baggins lives her peaceful, quiet existence in the Shire, dreaming of quests, adventures and warriors. One, fateful day of late April, the Wizard Gandalf the grey pays her an unexpected visit, with an unexpected offer that could change the fate of Middle-Earth forever and a company of Thirteen dwarves appears at her doorsed with a plan to reclaim a lost kingdom and slay a dragon... Bella is chosen to fulfill a dangerous task; burgle the dragon Smaug. The lonely little Hobbit will sign away her life to aid Thorin Oakenshield, leader of the company and King under the Mountain. Bella will step out her round green door to face perilous adventures; trolls, orcs, goblins, giant spiders, skinchangers, elves and wizards. The kindly child of the west will pick up a sword to help her company, taking the mantle of a Burglar. will she be able to save her friends from the fire that awaits them? will she be able to find the light among the shadows of the past? she will steal the Jewel of the King...and his heart as well. is the worst behind her and her company, or is everything to end in fire?





	1. PROLOGUE - Like in the great stories

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to thank all of you who stuck with me in this adventure, I hope you'll love the rewrite of the King and the Burglar (which will be divided in a series of three fics) and thank you again for your support!

The Burglar reached out one, trembling hand, the glint of the golden band that veiled her from his eyes, shined on her finger as she grabbed the white jewel that blazed like a star made stone.

She slipped the Arkestone inside the pocket of her borrowed, torn, blue coat and darted aside just in time as he opened his mouth.

The flame came out roaring in a hot jet and the green stone walls of Erebor begun to twist and melt. Molten stone running down the Mountain’s depths.

It was so hot that the Burglar begun to fear she might melt too. On all four, she crawled amongst the the golden hills of coins heated by dragonfire that blistered her ruined hands. Her damp curls clinged to her forehead and she felt the salty taste of her sweat dripping from her brow to her lips.

She kept crawling, trying to push her way through that golden desolation deep into the mountain, while him twisted his serpentine body above her, clawing the stone walls, flaring is huge nostrils to catch her scent, to catch her. His scales were blazing red, crusted with golden coins that fell with a pling upon the hard stone.

Her shadowy veil of invisibility was still in her favor, for as long as she wore the ring. One hand wandered to her pocket, she felt the hard bump of the jewel. Finally, she had fulfilled the task for which she had been employed for – only eight months earlier but it felt a thousand years ago.

The Burglar prayed, begged and cursed under her breath as she gasped in the heat, thinking back at how far her journey had taken her. She took a path that had led her astray from who she once had was. She had made many bad decisions along the way, and the Valars only knew how many more she would make. Decisions that could cost her her life, the love of her friends. Decisions which consequences will stay with her for all her days, decisions that will unexpectedly turn out to be for the better, really.

If asked when her journey begun, our Burglar would probably answer that this whole nasty, uncomfortable business had started that morning of late April – that seemed ages ago – when she signed away her life.

In truth, this adventure had begun a hot summer of Mid-summer’s eve, many years ago. . .

 

It was a hot summer night. The great field of Hobbiton was alive with the laughter of children, the party tree was decorated with many, colorful lanterns, the air was heavy with the smell of baked goods and roasted meat, the smoke of the fireworks and pipeweed that made her eyes sting.

 _Thud_! Her stick- sword hit the old man’s bottom a little harder than she had intended.

The man turned instantly toward her and the little Hobbit met a pair of confused, gleaming blue eyes, heavied by a furrowed brow.

Cheeky as you please, the little Hobbit offered the old man the most innocent smile she could muster.

“ _Bella!_ ” her mother’ soft ammonition came out in a gasped laugh as she flew to her daughter’s side and promptly reached to take the toy sword from her hands, “No, sweetling, No! give it to me!”

Bella squirmed, keeping a tight grip on her sword, “No!”

“At once, young lady!”

Reluctantly, the little Hobbit girl surrendered her precious toy sword to her bossy mother.

Meanwhile, the old man clothed in grey was leaning on his twisted, long staff. laughing beneath his long beard at the scene between mother and daughter, deeply amused, “Well, I am glad to see that there’s a new flower in the Took’s garden.” He said turning his smiling, gleaming eyes toward the little Hobbit.

Her mother smiled at the tall, old man, “Gandalf the Grey!”

“Belladonna took!”

They both hugged like long-lost friends, “my most darling girl. Though you are not girl anymore and you have become a mother.” The old man said. His gleaming eyes falling again on the little girl, studying her carefully.

Her mama brought her forward to introduce her to him, “Bella, this is an old fried of mine, Gandalf the Grey. He’s a wizard.”

Little Bella gasped, alert like a fox at the word, “A _wizard?!_ ”

Gandal bent down to look at her, leaning on his staff, arching one, bushy brow, “In person. And you, young hobbit are?”

Bella beamed up, “My name is Belladonna Baggins, sir! But you can call me Bella! Are you truly a wizard? Can you do a magic trick? I never seen you before, where did you come from? Where have you been? How many places have you visited? For how long have you known my mama? And – “ her mama put a hand upon Bella’s mouth, hushing her. Nonetheless, the little girl kept asking more questions, even if muffled by her mother’s hand.

“You must excuse my little one, Gandalf, “ said Belladonna, “she is a excitable, little girl, too lively and enthusiastic and – ouch!” her mother jerked away the hand she was holding against her daughter’s mouth, because Bella had just bit her.

“Bella!”

Gandalf bursted out laughing, “Fierce as a dragon in a pinch!” he exclaimed as he reached out one, worn out hand to ruffle Bella’s short, red-golden curls, “and a strong arm too,” his hand went to his lower back, rubbing the spot when Bella had hit him with her toy sword, “were you planning to skewer me, young hobbit?”

Bella bit her lip and flushed. She felt her mama’s disapproving, brown eyes upon her. She knew very well that she could keep her toy sword for as long as she wasn’t going to hurt anyone, and she’d been already pushing her luck when she had broke her cousin Otho Sackville-Baggins’ nose, last spring.

Bella did not meant to hurt Gandalf. Bolder than the other Hobbit children, she had crept in on him, quiet as she could be as the old man was turned – she had never seen someone as tall as him and so strange looking. rarely tall folks ventured in the Shire, nor Hobbits were too eager to leave their land – in a rush of childish excitement, she had so desperately wanted to catch the old man’s attention, but she never meant to hurt him.

Bella scuffed a furry toe amongst the moist grass and lowered her head, “I’m so sorry I hit you with my toy sword.” She said in her most sweet, sorry voice.

Gandalf burst into amused giggles at the sight, but her mother was not as easily fooled, “I Ought to snap this wretched toy on my knee and be done with it.”

“No!” Bella cried, fearing for her precious toy.

Gandalf came to her aid “Oh, my dear Belladonna, please. There’s no need to. I had endured worst blows than one of a simple sword-stick, I’ll grant you and the girl said she’s sorry,” said the wizard, “Besides, if you took it away from her, no doubt you’d find a Narsil in your daughter’s hands within the morning.”

Her mama snorted back a proud laugh, “Yes, you are probably right.” Belladonna looked down at her daughter with a mischievous smile on her face, “Oh, alright,”then held the toy out to her, hilt first, “Go. Unleash hell.”

Bella took it in her hands, a happy grin blooming on her face, “thank you!”

Gandalf knelt in the grass, in front of her, leaning on his long, twisted staff. He messed up her curls once more, “What a jolly, unexpected, little girl. You asked me if could perform a ‘magic trick’” he arched one, bushy brow, “would you like to see one?”

Bella nodded her head frantically, her curls fluffing on her head.

In the blink of an eye, the wizard used his long staff to lit a firework. When the spark flew up in the sky and exploded above Hobbiton in golden and scarlet sparks. The dragon roared and twisted and when it opened its mouth, golden flames poured in a glittering jet that turned into dust in the night sky.

Hundreds of hobbits cried in surprise and in concern, but little Bella Baggins lifted her head in wonder, she had never seen anything more beautiful.

Gandalf was observing her closely, “Magic trick enough for you?”

Bella nodded slowly, not able to gaze away from the firework, “It looks like a real dragon.” She said, awed.

“I am afraid a real dragon is a far more dreadful sight, little Hobbit.” Said Gandalf with an amused sigh.

“Have you ever seen a dragon ?” Bella asked him suddenly.

The Grey Wizard gave her a long, careful look. His eyes gleamed beneath his pointy blue hat. “I know a story about a Dragon.” He said, stroking his sweeping silver beard.

Bella lit up like the firework. “Tell me everything!” she pleaded, tugging at his grey robes.

“ _everything_? “ Gandalf laughed and messed up Bella’s short curls again. “ My dear child, you are far too eager and curious for a Hobbit…that is most unnatural.”

Gandalf used his staff to lit another firework, when the spark flew in the sky, purple flowers blossomed and died, glittering in the night. Somewhere across the field, the band was playing but Bella could scarcely hear their tune above the explosions of the fireworks and the delighted cries of hundreds of Hobbits. Her pointy ears twitched at the noise.

“If I hadn’t known for certain that your dear mother had married respectable Master Bungo and bore a daughter named ‘ _Baggins_ ’ I would say that you are quite the adventurous little lass, just like many Tooks before you.”

“Take me with you and I’ll show you.” She said to Gandalf, in a sudden rush, “Mama will let me go with you if you ask her, I know she will!”

 Gandalf’s bushy brows rose and then he burst into laughing, “The world outside your Shire is a hard place for a young, little Hobbit, my dear Bella.”

“I am almost a grown Hobbit!” Bella protested. “I am the oldest of all my cousins, I’m ten! and I can climb a tree higher than any other children and I am the fastest! Even the boys can’t run as fast as me!”

Gandalf snorted and stroked is beard, “Remarkable qualities.”

Bella wanted desperately to explain, to make him see, “Please Gandalf, please! I never seen the world outside the Shire and I want to go in a adventure like one in the great stories!” she pleaded to this wizard she had only just met, but she was sure in her heart he could make her wildest dreams come true.

“Have you given any thought to what your parents would say about me, leading their little girl into perilous adventures out in the wide world?” he asked, glancing up to where her mama and papa were dancing as the band was playing.

Bella chewed on her lip defeated. She knew all too well that her mother was famous in the Shire for being an unexpectedly adventursome woman, daughter of Gerontius Took, Thain of the Shire and descendant of the famous Brandobras Bullroarer Took, had her fair amount of adventures.

Bella wanted so very much to be like her mother, her grandfather and her great-grand-uncle, but her last name was Baggins not Took and she knew the Bagginses were very well thought of in the Shire. Never had any adventures and did anything unexpected of them.

Bella lowered he head, lost.

Gandalf caught her chin in his hands and urged her to look up at him, “ _It’s a dangerous business, Bella, going out your door. You step onto the road and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to.”_

Bella knew those words, “That’s what mama always says.”

Gandalf nodded, “and she’s right. Now, you might dream of great stories and living adventures, but you must know that the world can be a dark, dangerous place as well,” he pulled out a pipe from one of his sleeves and lit it with his pinkie finger and inhaled, “For dark and dangerous things roams this world.” He began blowing ribbons of grey smoke.

“Dark and dangerous things like… a _Dragon_?” she said suddenly, thinking about the great fireworks in the sky.

Gandalf seemed surprised that she had spoken of it. Smoke rings curled around them and Bella waved them away with her hand.

The Grey wizard led her to a nearby bench and pulled her up to sit in his lap, “Let me tell you something about dragons, dear Bella. They are ancient and twisted creatures, fire and death made flesh. They have dark hearts and even darker minds. Their wings eclipse the sun, turning day into night, their fire can melt mountains and their scales are like armours. They can live thousands of years and they fly over the realms of men, burning and destroying cities and kingdoms and fed on the flesh of men, women and children.”

Gandalf’s voice was almost a whisper, his eyes gleamed dimly and Bella found herself leaning foward to listen.

“They are greedy, cunning creatures, but they can also be seductive and alluring. They are malicious , subtle beings of immense intelligence. Their eyes are pools of molten fire ant their speech had a power to compromise a men’s heart and bend their minds. Those who did not wish to fall under their spell ought to talk vaguely and in riddles, for denying an answer would mean sure death.”

“Dragons can talk too?” Bella asked, startled. The smoke rings were curling and dancing around her. Her eyes filled with tears, pheraps it was the smoke, pheraps it was the fear.

“Yes, dragons can talk.” Gandalf nodded, almost absently. “A Dragon owes allegiance to no one. The kingdoms of this world are nothing to them, their eyes are set on other prizes…” Ribbons of grey smoke came alive around her, turning into a tiny dragon, Bella heard a hideous sound or she through she did. The little smoke drake turned its head slowly and snapped its jaws at her. Gandalf’s voice was as distant as a memory “…for dragons covet gold, with a dark fierce desire… “ The little smoke- dragon twisted and roared and whirled above her head when it finally whimpered and died, fading into thin air.

When the party was through and the lanterns were all blown out, The wizard left as he came, suddenly. Taking away his fireworks and his stories with him.

For days Bella had wondered if she will ever see her new, unexpected friend again, and for years she had dreamed of adventures, stories and dragons.

“can I have a book about dragons?” she once asked as her mother was tucking her to bed.

Belladonna had smiled, then. She had a mouth made for smiles with dimples of each sides of her face, “and what for? The only dragon to be found in the Shire is the one painted on the plate of the Green Dragon Inn.”

Despite being mother and daughter, the two Belladonna’s were as different as the sun and the moon; her mother had brown, doe-eyes and long brown curls that fell past her waist. While little Bella took her colours from her grandfather, the Old Took, with her red-gold short curls and big green eyes without a trace of hazel in them.

 “Gandalf told me a story about dragons.” She said, yawning.

“Oh, did he?” her mama asked as she tucked Bella into bed. Her brown locks fell like a curtain around her. Bella fought to keep her eyes open as her eyelids grew heavier. “Can I go with him the next time he comes back to the Shire? I want to go on a adventure.”

Her mother’s big eyes widened at that and she laughed softly. “you are too young to go on a adventure with that blasted wizard.”

“What if I promise to be careful?”

“ _Bella_ … “

“pretty please?”

“What would your father say if i just let you go off with Gandalf, living adventures, fighting dragons … “

“You can’t fight a dragon, their scales are too hard, as hard as armours.” Bella explained proudly.

Her mother snorted. “All right, smarty-pants! And surely you can’t fight a dragon with your little toy sword.” She smiled mischievously.

“Perhaps with a real sword… “ Bella offered, cheeky.

“Belladonna Baggins!”

“It doesn’t have to be a big sword, it could be little…like me!”

Her mother chuckled. “with all the troubles you have already caused with your toy, you’ll be lucky if I trust you with a _letter opener_. “

Suddenly Bella remebered of what Gandalf had told her, of the ‘dark and dangerous things’ that roams the world outside the little, peaceful green land of the Hobbits. “Do you think he’ll ever come back?” she asked, uncertaintly.

Her mother patted her cheeck. “He is a wizard, he does as he chooses, but i promise you, he will come back, precisely when he means to.” Despite her fears, Bella thrilled at the never-failing comfort of her mother’s touch. She curled closer to her pillow,her eyelids fluttering closed, and with hope in her heart, little Bella Baggins fell asleep, dreaming of swords, adventures and dragons.

 


	2. Burglar for hire

_Bree - On the borders of the Shire …39 years later_

“A Burglar?” Thorin Oakenshield leaned back in his chair as he swallowed a gulp of ale from his tankard. Foul stuff, the brew of the prancing pony inn, but strong.

Shadows and smoke gathered around the silver-clad figure of The Grey Wizard. Flickering candles burned dimly all around them in the large Inn, the Tharkun’s blue eyes gleamed sharp and bright, gazing over him as he spoke.

 “It is the wiser course. A burglar, someone we can send into the mountain to retrieve the Arkestone. Someone quick and silent, capable of wits. Someone suited for the task! a creature whose natural abilities are remarkably well-matched with all the fundamental aspects of…burglary.”

 The smoke of the pipes curled around them in the dim-lighted room.

Thorin casted a glance around the hall filled with human folks, looking for other potential threats. The two men that attempted to attack him were no surprise for him, ever since the dragon conquered the mountain, Thorin had faced opponents who would have gladly killed the heir of the throne of Durin. No, he was more concerned about the thick piece of sheep skin the wizard had placed in front of him. Someone wanted his head, someone whose speech was black.

No. It could not be so. Thorin told himself. The pale orc, that filth had rotten long ago. . .

he looked up to meet Gandalf’s eyes.

“And what sort of creature might that be? “he rumbled suspicious, he was curious to hear what was the wizard’s great plan to take back The Lonely Mountain.

“A very simple and peculiar creature. A Hobbit.”

It came so suddenly that Thorin could only stare for a moment. _A Hobbit. A Halfling?_

“Shire-folks.” He spat, half laughing, “I know about them, small creatures, their villages are settled not far from here. They live only to drink, mate, and smoke. Completely unaware of the world outside their borders. Witless, fat, ignorant folks, so few in number and so useless that more than half the people in all Middle-Earth aren’t aware of their existence.”

Gandalf gave him a look, eyes gleaming and shoulders shaking with sudden laughter.

“And that’s exactly why I believe a hobbit is the perfect choice for a burglar! In fact, I am sure that not even Smaug himself is aware of their existence, therefore, is unlikely accustomed to their scent. As I told you. Perfect burglar material.”

The Wizard’s swords were convincing enough to lift his long-lost hopes to slain the dragon and conquer back his kingdom.

Yet, Thorin had another quest to fullfill, one he had set upon himself over a century ago . . .

He never did find out who that mysterious dwarf was, wandering in Dunland. He had searched far and wide, but of his father he found no trace. Everyone’s hopes had been lost, since Thrain disappeared. Balin, Dwalin, Daín, even his sister Dís. Everyone believed him death, but Thorin knew he was alive.

“Once I have found my Father, we will retake the Mountain with the rest of our forces, only then, not before.” Thorin said

Gandalf sighed, “Thorin if ever there was a possibility that Thrain had made it out alive at the gates of Moria, whoever sent this message would have been paying for _his_ head, since _he was_ the son of the king.” The wizard said plainly, tapping his finger upon the tick sheep skin, then folding it and putting it away in his pockets, “Now you are the king, Thorin. Which means many in Middle-Earth will consider you a threat, as long as you are alive, the hopes to take back your kingdom would not remain only hopes. That’s why the dragon worries me, the mountain itself is a powerful stronghold in the east, and the great wealth inside its halls are enough to pay for over a hundred armies. That’s why it’s vital that you take back your kingdom and your crown.”

“My father still lives, I know it, you weren’t there, Gandalf, that day, at the gates of Moria. . . I’ve searched every single body of the fallen , My father wasn’t amongst them. He was taken prisoner-“

Gandalf sighed heavily, “- If Thráin had ever been taken prisoner by the orcs. . . It means he was murdered long ago, they wouldn’t risk to have the son of Thrór alive.”

Thorin gritted his teeth. The wizard. . . Was probably right.

“Thorin.” Gandalf regarded him seriously, “It is time. take back your throne! I will help you retrieve the jewel of the king, and once it is in your hands, the seven armies will be reunited to finally slain the dragon.”

“with the help of a hobbit.” He rasped, quite scorned.

Gandalf sighed once more, “Hobbits do not wield weapons, neither are renown as great warriors or counted amongst the very wise…but, there’s grace in their hearts. They protect their loved ones fiercely, overly fond of things that grow, as much as we are able to love something that is inevitably bound to wither and die. Their only foe is winter. Yet, I have found that they possess a great amount of courage, that’s why I’m very fond of them.”

He leaned foward, elbows pressed against the table.

“And I am even more fond of the very hobbit I have chosen to be our burglar, a hobbit that possess all the qualities required; cunning, clever, quick, and… dare I say ‘extremely charming’, good hearted and completely trustworthy, perfectly fit for the task.” The wizard declared, serene in his confidence.

Suddenly, the air around them changed, now, Thorin was impatient to know what the Wizard would say next. Waves of grey smoke filled his nostrils.

He had a bad feeling about this.

After a long moment, Thorin broke the silence, “Pray, who’s this Hobbit?” he asked.

“Her name is Belladonna Baggins.” Gandalf declared, cheerfully.

For a moment Thorin could not believe he heard the wizard correctly.

“ _her_?” He growled, looking fit to burst into a bark of laughter, “your intended Burglar is a hobbit lass?”

“precisely.” Was all the wizard had to say.

 The dwarf king’s sapphire eyes met the wizard’s gleaming ones.

“This hobbit. . . Is she a friend of yours?”

“Yes, I have known her since she was a babe, I have known her mother and her grandfather before her. I’ll grant you, Thorin, she is different from all the hobbits you will ever meet, I wouldn’t have mentioned her name if I wasn’t sure she is the right choice, but why I am even telling you that? you’ll see it when you’ll meet her. ” he told him, serene.

Thorin had heard enough, “how about you choose a more competent burglar instead of a useless halfling?” he spat. This plan was madness. How could the wizard believe that, a hobbit, out of all the creatures of Middle-Earth could succeed such a task?

Gandalf’s silver brow arched, challenging, “would you have preferred someone else? Perhaps some legendary warrior or a famous hero, maybe? Well, the Valley of Imladris stands between here and the Mountain, I am sure Lord Elrod will gladly come to our aid-“

Thorin slammed his fist so hard upon the wooden table that it cracked, “I will not seek help from those who denied it long ago, Gandalf! If we do take this path, I promise you, no elf will have a place amongst me or mine!” he growled through gritted teeth.

The betrayal of the elves, when Smaug destroyed their lives, was still a open cut, and deeply felt.

“There’s no need to lose our temper. “the wizard said, casting a quick glance around the hall, Thorin did the same and found that all the eyes in the large inn were looking at them, at him.

Thorin ignored their eyes and fucused on the wizard’s.

 “you are sending your friend to die, you know that?” he said wary,“let’s just assume that Smaug is deep in his slumber, but what then? We send in the hobbit. . . To break his fast? Smaug will devour her.” He snarled.

“it is a risk, ” The Tharkun conceded,“But I believe with a small party of volunteers we can see it done. I suggest that you round a Company, a group of dwarves you trust.”

“Even if I agree to this quest, how will we ever get into the mountain? the front gate is sealed.”

The wizard gave him a look, and waved a hand at him, as to dismiss the matter, “Worry not about that, I’ll have it figured out, in one way or another. . . “

Thorin’s brow furrowed, there’s was something the wizard was not telling him.

Gandalf casted a glance around the dim-lighted inn, eyes gleaming, searching, “Thorin. . . You must rely only upon the ones close to you, keep your plans hidden and tell no one about this quest but your kin. I think your journey to Dunland to find your father brought you here not by chance . . . Someome wants you dead.”

“Many do.” He replied as he swallowed his Ale.

Gandalf ‘s brows rose. “That’s what we have to prevent, your arrival here in Bree had been methodically planned. It means it is time.” The wizard ‘s eyes caught the light of the candles for a moment. Just one moment. Yet, it was enough. Endless fire blazed in those eyes. _Then why I feel so cold?_

After a long silence Thorin said, “This burglar, this Baggins. . . What makes her different from the others? Why did you choose her?” he wanted to know.

Gandalf snorted almost amused, “Well, I would dare say that she was choosen and I was only choosen to choose her.”

Thorin raised a brow, the wizard was talking in riddles, and he didn’t like that at all, but what else could he do if not trust him? Him, who had come to his aid? What other choice did he had?

None. Gandalf’s voice answered in his head.

Thorin set his gaze into the wizard’s, “Where exactly does your Burglar live?” he asked sharply.

The Tharkun gave him an inquiring look, then nodded “Her house is called Bag End, number 1 of Bag shot row, Hobbiton, Shire. Oh well, why I am even telling you that, you’ll recognize it once you’ll see it. It is extremely easy to find.”

His neck was so tight he could scarcely nod. So be it, he was doing this. Thorin rubbed his hand on his face. He was tired. This journey had not yet begun, and he was already begging for mercy. _Not yet on the path and the wizard is already leading us astray._

They trembled on the edge of an axe, strike well, they regain their kingdom, their home, strike ill and all was to end in fire.

Thorin Oakenshield, heir of the throne of Durin, King Under the Mountain, displaced from his kingdom straightened his spine and said to the grey wizard,

“So be it, then.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter remained basically the same. As a matter of fact, it was one of the few chapters of the original fic I was fully satisfied with.so. . . Cool! 
> 
> Also I forgot to mention a few changes :
> 
> 1\. Bella was 12 when she met Gandalf, in the original fic, but I made her ten, in this.
> 
> 2\. Here, Bella had only met Gandalf once in her childhood and never again until the day of the meeting in Bag End. Not like in the original fic when she and Gandalf met every year. ( it is more plausible to forget someone you had met only once when you were ten)
> 
> 3\. In the book, Bungo dies and then, eight years Belladonna Took passes as well, but I reversed their death dates cause of plot reasons.
> 
> 4.Bella is forty-nine at the beginning of her journey, not yet fifty.
> 
> With this all said, I hope you'll enjoy (though some of you might have already read this chapter in the original fic) as always thank you for your attention and don't hesitate to comment :)


	3. Concerning Hobbits

_Hobbiton, The Shire. . . 1 month and eleven days later._

 

The Wizard arrived precisely when he meant to. As they do.

He wasn’t late, nor was he early, in truth, he was just in time to meet our unexpected, unaware heroine.

That chilly morning of late April, Belladonna Baggins woke up with a gasp. She had dreamed again, but she could not remember what.

She sat up in her bed and ran a hand through her messy mane of gold-red curls. The coverlets had twisted around her like a snake in her sleep.

A snake. There was a snake in her dreams, she suddenly remembered. That one was made of smoke, though.

As she disentangled herself, the large tome with the worn-out lather cover on her lap, slipped down the bed and landed on the wooden floor with a thud.

Yawning and stretching like a cat, Bella climbed down the bed and picked it up, it was a big, old, dusty book with cracked yellow pages and black faded ink full of tales of adventures and mighty warriors. One of her very favorite.

Belladonna Baggins was quite the adventurous lass, although…she was far from ‘adventuresome.’ She contented herself to journey only through the crabbed scripts of her books and the painted landscapes of her maps.

Bella padded to her round window. Hobbiton was shining under the bright morning sun of late April. She gazed down Bag Shot Row and saw Hamfast Gamgee plucking weeds in his garden, “Good Morning, Master Gamgee!” Bella called down the old hobbit. The Gaffer gazed up, searching for the voice, “Mornin’ Miss-Boss!”

“What hour?” she asked him.

“Half past eight, Missus!”

She was not late, not yet. Bella Baggins was no laggard, but seldom timely. As much the Hobbits would say about her. Also that she was a hopeless daydreamer, crackin’ and proud of it.

Bella quickly washed her face and ears with the water of her basin, slipped out of her nightgown, and donned her smallclothes and pantalets. She, then wrinkled her face at her corset and at the prospect to lace that dreaded stuff all the way up her waist.

By the time all the laces were tied properly, Bella was panting and flushed by the fatigue of squeezing her round, hips into the dreadful tight cage. She hated to wear her corsets, but knew that she would never hear the end of it by her flock of aunts and cousins if she’d decide to show up in a undecent attire.

She combed her long messy mane of curls in a proper updo, short, stubborn fiery ringlets curled around her face. All was done and she needed to choose a gown. Bella fussed a moment with her light pink dress with white flowers embroidered on the skirts. That wouldn’t do, she decided. With her hair, it made her look like a plump, pink grapefruit.

She didn’t even glanced at her deep green dress, it was her favorite; it matched her complexion perfectly and enhanced her green eyes and fiery hair, but she had already wore it too many times this season. The deep azure one, with the flowing skirts was stunning, but it was low-cut and showed too much of her bosom. Her grandmother would surely howl if she’d wore that one.

Bella pondered a moment on her late mother’s signature red dress; if green was Bella Baggins’s colour, red had been surely Belladonna Took’s. The dress was simple but unique altogether, it had an exquisite golden embroidery upon the flowing skirts of vines and leaves. she remembered how beautiful Belladonna looked wearing it at mid-summer’s eve, candles seemed to burn brighter when she passed.

Shrugging, she inspected her other dresses. The lilac samite dress no longer fit her. . . In truth she had gained a little weight, the fault was Mrs Bell Gamgee’s delicious honey cakes. her light cream robes with the river’s pearls belt was way too fancy, so Bella decided to wear her flowing white blouse and her brocade yellow gown with the azure scarf. It was light and not too excessive and elegant in its own fashion. Yet, she knew that many of her aunts would wrinkle their noses saying that it was too boy-ish and that she looked like a flapper.

Pinching her cheeks, to make them appear redder, Bella strode to the kitchen and prepared the kettle for the tea. She would eat later, but for first breakfast she cooked herself a couple of sausages and tomatoes with eggs and bacon.

She wolfed down everything eagerly, the tomatoes were plump and tasty, they would make her win another blue ribbon at the contest this year.

When she was done eating and everything was washed in the sink, Bella decided that it was still early and that she could dawdle a little longer. She went to sit on the little bench down the stoney steps of her front porch. Bella took out her long pipe and lit it. She sighed content and closed her eyes. Chewing on her pipe, she made a proper picture.

The bright, green hills of the Shire below her, the dancing gold shimmers of the April sun upon the dark waves of Bywater. The warm, soft soil beneath her furry toes. her pointy hears twitched at the sounds of the hobbit children playing in the fields, and for an unconscious moment, she wished she could be out there with them. Breathless and covered in mud.

Instead, she sat by her house, draped in her proper, yellow brocade dress, with her flowing skirts that reached just above her knees, as it was in Shire’s fashion, and her long red-gold curls properly combed in an elegant updo.

A balmy, soft scent poured in the cool breeze drifting by, heavy with the velvety, redolent smells of the April’s blossoms. From up above the newly fledged trees, to the dewy, moist ground below, to the golden masses of yellow Jessamines that bordered her front porch and to the candid daffodils in their pots.

The blue jays and the mockingbirds carried their songs in tune, chirping merrily, announcing the arrival of this chilly spring and resuming their old feud for the possession of the most protected spot to which build their nests through the shelter of the ancient oaktree in her backyard.

Bella opened her eyes briefly , blinking in the sun to admire her beloved, green Shire. So quiet and peaceful, where seldom people came or went and where – without a doubt – never once happened something unexpected.

One last glance and our Baggins closed her eyes again, stretching in the warmth of that day of late April, like a lazy cat, quietly blowing pretty rings of grey smoke from her pipe, and enjoying the warm kiss of the sun on her face. . .

. . . Until a shadow moved in front of her.

Bella, instinctively opened her eyes and there was standing a man.

A human men – that apparently seemed to appear out of thin air - He was quite old, completely dressed in long, grey robes that surely had seen better days. He was leaning on a long, twisted wooden staff. He had a silver scarf and a sweeping silver beard that almost reached his belt.

The tall stranger looked a her from underneath his tall, pointy blue hat with unsettling, gleaming blue eyes.

Bella was unsure of what to do. Not very often ‘tall folks’ used to venture into the Shire, except some wanderers and merchants. That’s it, he was probably some buttons seller.

“Um, good morning!” Bella attempted, polite.

The old stranger raised a bushy silver brow, “What do you mean? You mean to wish me good morning or that it is a good morning whether I want it or not?” the old man said, well asked, in a deep, husky, and incredibly familiar voice.

“Umm…? ”

“Or perhaps you mean say that you feel good on this particular morning… or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?”

Bella’s pipe almost fell off her mouth. Was that some kind of riddle? “All of them at once… I suppose.” She decided to answer.

The old man only stared at her with his strange, yet oddly familiar, unsettling, gleaming blue eyes.

Bella was starting to feel uncomfortable under his gaze, “May I help you?” she asked.

“That remains to be seen. . . I am looking for someone to share in an adventure.”

This time her pipe did fell off her mouth.

“A… an advent- no, I don’t imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures.”

Bella stood, gathered up her pipe and walked over to the mailbox, “Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. Makes you late for dinner!” Bella quoted what her father used to say to her when she was a little girl. She blew another pretty perfect smoke ring as she took out her letters and began to read, completely aware of the old stranger’s eyes upon her, as he leaned on his wooden staff. She was also aware that she was being quite rude, ignoring the old man so, but he carried such a sensation of unease about him that Bella had decided not to pay him further attention, hoping he would just go away.

Yet, the old man lingered by her, still as stone, silently watching her with careful, inquiring, gleaming blue eyes.

“Good morning!” she said finally breaking the silence, then began to come up the stoney steps to get back inside her Smial, leaving the old man on the doorstep.

The stranger chuckled behind her, “What a lot of things you do use good morning for! To think that I should have lived to be ‘good-morninged’ by Belladonna Took’s daughter, as if I was selling buttons at the door!”

Bella froze. “Beg you pardon?” did she heard correctly? “how do you know my mother’s name, sir?” she asked, bewildered.

The old man gave her a look, “You’ve changed and not entirely for the better, Bella Baggins.”

Her tummy gave a little flutter, “I am sorry, do I know you?”

The stranger smiled a familiar smile, eyes gleaming, “Yes, yes you do know my name, though you don’t remember that I belong to it. I am Gandalf! And Gandalf means. . . Me.”

_Gandalf._

The memories hit her like a sudden summer thunderstorm.

Once, when she was just a child, a wandering wizard had come to the Shire, an old, tall, grey man. Many hobbits lived in terror of him, officially labeled him ‘a disturber of peace’, but he told stories of great quests, mighty kings and dreadful dragons and, of course, he had his amazing fireworks whose fire seemed to come alive.

He was an old friend of her grandfather, Thain Gerontius Took and her late mother Belladonna Took, and Bella had cried bitter tears when he left the Shire, begging Yavanna and the other Valars to bring him back to her, “Gandalf is a wizard, sweetling,” Belladonna had told her daughter patiently, “He does as he chooses, but I promise you, he will come back to us, precisely when he means to.”

He hadn’t, though. Well, until now. . .

“Gandalf!” she exclaimed, excited, “Gandalf, the wandering wizard who used to make such excellent fireworks! The Old Took used to have them at Midsummer’s-eve!”

Gandalf smiled proudly at the praise and stood a little straighter.

Bella chewed on her pipe, thoughtful, “I didn’t know you were still in business.”

Gandalf’s smile fell, “Ah, and where else should I be?” he asked, frowning.

“selling buttons door to door? “ she laughed, “ah- oh, c’mon don’t be mad, I was only joking!” she said hurriedly when she saw his face flush.

Gandalf’s eyes flashed blue for a moment, his wrinkled face became as red as one of her prized tomatoes, she thought he would burst into flames, but he only huffed out a breath, “well I am pleased to find you remember something about me. . . Even if it’s only my fireworks.”

He gave her a long, inquiring look, eyes gleaming underneath his hat.

“Well, that’s decided!” he finally said as he shifted his long staff, “it will be very good for you and most amusing for me! I shall inform the others.” He said, serene in his confidence.

“inform the who- No! No, no, no, wait!” she climbed up the steps quickly, anxious to get away from the wizard, “We don’t want any adventures here, thank you! Not today- no!”she blurted out, startled, as she began to open her round door, determined to get inside and away from Gandalf and whatever plan he had in mind.

“Have you asked to come over for tea or supper I would have gladly invited you, but of adventures I have no use of, Good morning!”And with that, Bella slammed the door behind her, leaving Gandalf and his mad adventures outside.

She leaned her back against the solid wood, trying to master herself. The wizard’s sudden visit brought back so many long-lost memories to her mind: faded memories of hot summer nights spent watching glittering fireworks-dragons twisting in the night sky. Of old stories, great stories and far away places. Suddenly she heard some scraping noises outside the door.

It was like something was scratching it. Was the wizard still at her doorstep?Quickly, Bella went to the window to get a look. _What is he doing?!_

She indeed saw the wizard’s back as he came down her steps and down Bag Shot Row. She kept her eyes on him until he became a small grey spot against the bright day of April. Once he was gone, Bella let out a breath she didn’t knew she was holding.

Once she was sure that the Grey fool was gone for good, Bella grabbed her basket and went about her day.

She swept down Bag Shot Row light on the balls of her feet, _“Adventures!”_ she tsked in disdain, horrified.

It was the only thing in the world that she had ever wanted.

But that was when she was a little girl and foolish as a Took. She was a woman now, of forty-nine and Master of Bag End. Little Bella may have dreamed of distant lands and living adventures, But the Master of Bag End had never set a furry foot out of the borders of Bree-land.

If the Grey Wizard through that she’ll be impressed by his unexpected offer he was mighty wrong.

“Gandalf, Gandalf, Gandalf,” she sang carelessly as she made her descend toward the town.”

She stopped in front of number 3 of Bagshot Row, the Smial with the round, yellow door.

“Well _hullo_ , Miss-Boss,” Hamfast Gamgee tipped his hat as he saw her, he stood from his orchard and dusted his trousers, “Here, have a feel on me tubers, nice and firm they are.” He presented her with a huge tuber.

Hamfast Gamgee was the kindest hobbit of the Shire. He had been her father’s gardener and when Master Bungo had passed away, he kept an eye out for Bella.

“Me lad Hamson is growin’ them in Westfarthing,” He gestured proudly toward his eldest son. He was kneeling in the garden, cutting some of the flowers and placing them in a basked next to him. The lad startled when he heard his father addressing him and went bright red.

Hamson Gamgee was a shy champ, and bigger than any other lad in the Shire. He was stout with Sandy-brown hair, had plump red cheeks and blue eyes that shyly always looked at his feet whenever Bella was near. The two had the same age and young Hamson had taken a shine on her ever since they were playmates as children.

Bella smiled at the lad, “Very impressive, Ham, well done you,” she turned back toward the Gaffer, “Hamfast, I don’t suppose you’ve. . . Seen a wizard around these parts?” she asked glancing furtively around her.

The Gaffer blinked absently, thinking about it, “A wizard, Miss-Boss? Ya can’t mean Gandalf the wandering wizard?”

“yes, that’s him,”

“Tall fellow. . . “

“yes.”

“long Grey beard. . . “

“yes. . . “

“pointy hat?”

“yes!”

“Can’t say that I have.”

Bella sighed relieved. So, he was gone once and for all!

“Ain’t he that fellow that came up the hill earlier?” said suddenly Hamson.

“It’s him alright,” Bella said startled, “Did you saw him, Ham?”

The lad nodded, “Yes’m, he been askin’ after you,”

The Gaffer frowned, “what are you gibbering about, laddie? I ain’t seen no one,”

“I did. The tall, old fellow comes up to me ad asks ‘bout Miss Bella and what did she looked like,” Ham admitted.

“Ah, and what did ya say?” The Gaffer wanted to know.

Ham reddened, “Ah, but why, of course! I told him the truth; Miss Bella looks just like dear Mrs Belladonna, but more beautiful! I asked him if he had brought his fireworks with him, but the grey fellow only sighs an went about,” he gave a shrug, “too bad, I liked his fireworks.”

I liked them too. Bella reflected. Suddenly from the round, yellow door emerged Bell Gamgee with her toddler babe in tow, “Well, if that ain’t ma lamb! Oh Miss Bella where’s yo shawl?”

 Bell Gamgee was already mother of three daughters and three sons - the last arrived was little, blond, chubby Samwise, who wasn’t old enough to crawl – but she counted Bella as well as part of her litter, partly because she had helped her granny Took deliver her and watched over Bella as her nanny when she was a child, and would always look after her asking if she’d been eating healthy, if she had been a good girl and visited her relatives frequently, or if she’d forgot her shawl.

“It’s in my basket, Mrs Bell, I promise,” Bella lied. She had completely forgotten of her shawl.

But Bell was not easily fooled. She scowled suspiciously, “Yo sure? Last time you said the same thing and then yo cought a cold. I swear on the Green Lady, lass tha’ shawl better be in tha’ basket or else!”

“It’s getting late, I have to go!” Bella quickly called before Bell went as far as to box her ears out.

She took the western path, the path toward Green Hill County. The sun was shining, the sky was blue and the birds were carrying their tunes. Farmers and merchants would hail at her as she passed tipping their hats and smiling their good mornings. Bella smiled back, dimples blossoming in her cheeks.

By the time she arrived at the gates of Tuckborough it was almost time for elevensies. She saw the trestle tables settled in the yard and heard the voices of almost a hundred hobbits coming from all the Shire for the annual family gathering of Tuckborough.

Now, the Took clan was a large one, so half the Shire was related to them, the other half had turned up anyway.

Bella walked into the cheers and laughter kissing her Hullos and Good mornings to friends and close kin.

Everyone seemed to have arrived for hours. Gandalf’s unexpected visit had her dawdle, no wonder hobbits said she was a bit of a laggard.

She slipped through the crowd, hoping to go unnoticed, when she came upon some unsavory characters: Ted Sandyman and his ruffians. Ted was a willowy, skinny man, with sandy-brown curls always plastered on his forehead and sly, small eyes.

Unfortunately, he noticed Bella amongst the tables and gave her a sly smile, “Ooohh, there she is, the princess of the hill! ” he smacked his lips, noisy and wet.

Bella ignored his bad taste, “Good morning, Mister Sandyman,” she greeted politely and went about her business, but the man pulled away from his friends and began to walk beside her.

“Miss Baggins, you look ravishing this morning.” He stated. It would have been kindly said. . . Had him not said addressing her bosom. Bella ignored his gaping.

He took her hand into his, “have I asked for your hand in marriage, yet?” he jested.

He’s only teasing. She told herself. But behind the jests she could see the malice. Ted Sandyman was known to have a taste for malicious jokes. He was a young man, the same age as her, of low cunning and indecent behaviors.

Many young women in Hobbiton hid their flush beneath their fans whenever Ted Sandyman was around, and not for pleasure. He was armless, though. Too slim, and not so clever. The only thing sharp about him was his sly tongue.

“Three times already, this past month,” she replied casually.

He shrugged, “and I’ll ask a fourth time before this day is done, “ he said, clearly tipsy, “Please, I want your hand. . .” he pressed a moist kiss on Bella’s fingers and she slapped him lightly a moment after, “There. Now you had what you wanted!”

“Ooowww,”Ted blinked through the haze of the light blow and Bella stalked off, walking through the swarm of Hobbits. She was soon caught through the flock of aunts, uncles and cousins. Throughout the yard of Tuckborough, they were calling Bella’s name.

“Bella,” her aunt Mirabella Brandybuck, née Took, called out, “we missed you in Brandy Hall this season, where have you been, girl?”

“Bella,” old Rosa Took, who had been born a Baggins, waved, “Be a lamb, Darlin’ lass and fetch your old aunt a little glass of water? I feel so stiff today.”

“Bella,” moaned Angelica Baggins, a brat of thirty-two years, “why won’t you let me borrow your pretty green dress at this year’s Mid-summer’s eve? You can borrow my pink one in return! You look alright in pink.”

“Bella,” pleaded her cousin Amaranth Brandybuck, “Something’s amiss with my dress, would you please lace me up? ”

Bella spun around the table like a spinning top. She kissed her aunt Mirabella, who had been her mother’s youngest sister, and told that she would pay a call at Brandy Hall as soon as possible. She knew her aunt Rosa well enough to know that by ‘little glass of water’, she meant ‘large glass of sherry’ and fetched her her drink.

She addressed her grand-niece Angelica with a gentle tone, “No, Angie, dear, I won’t borrow you my green dress, but I can sew you one, if you like.” Angelica Baggins crossed her arms against her chest and pouted. She stomped one, furry foot and stalked away. Bella then, helped her Brandybuck cousin lace up her gown.

When the other cries of “Bella, Bella, Bella” had become more persistent, two slender, pale arms wrapped around her, “Bella!” this voice was joyful, happy to see her and without any demands.

Bella hugged her cousin back, “Prim!” Primula Brandybuck , youngest daughter of Gorbadoc Brandybuck and Mirabella Took, was a cheerful young girl of thirty-five, with a mop of honey-blonde curls and cornflower-blue eyes.

Following close behind, there was her almost-fiancé, Bella’s shy and good-natured second cousin Drogo Baggins.

“When haven’t seen you in ages, where have you been?” Prim asked.

“At Bag End, of course. Where else could I have been?” Bella replied.

“I hope my mother had already made you promise to come and visit us in Brandy Hall, this summer. We could have picnics and go boating on the Brandywine,” She blushed, “Dru had even learned to row a boat for me.”

Bella turned to Drogo, “had he? Truly?” she asked impressed. Hobbits seldom learned to swim, except those brave or fool enough to learn at a young age, those who braved the waters were usually the Brandybucks and the Tooks.

Drogo smiled proudly, “Prim loves her trips on the Brandywine. . . “ he trailed off oggling his almost-fiancé with heart eyes. Prim blushed and lowered hers. _‘and I love her’_ hung in the air between them. No further words were needed to understand that the lad was head over heels for his intended. Bella knew that Drogo had a crippling fear of water ever since he was a child, and yet he learned to row a board to please his soon-to-be-bride.

Drogo Baggins was a slender lad, brown-haired and brown-eyed with a passion for books that was most uncommon for a Baggins and a passion for a certain Brandybuck girl that was also most uncommon for a Baggins.

They took their seats at the tables next to each others. Elevensies were served with hot coffee, great meat and cheese platters filled with every kind of ham, small dried sausages, plump black sausages, spicy white cheese and grape. fresh hot morning bread and small jars of honey and boiled eggs.

“When will you ask to marry her?” Bella whispered to Drogo while they were eating.

“Soon,” Drogo whispered back, “I saved every penny I earned to build me and Prim a decent Smial. . . But it’s not enough, I’ll need more time.”

“Why? You can propose to her anyway, you know once you are engaged you won’t marry for at least a year, so why wait? You can always live in Brandy Hall together, or rent a good home in Crickhollow. “

Drogo only went bright red.

Bella sighed, “You are too shy to propose, aren’t you?”

He nodded, still red.

“Dru!”

“I know!” he said a bit too laud and quickly hushed before Prim could hear him, “I know, but, remember, Bella. Prim is a Brandybuck.”

“And you are a Baggins.” She reminded him.

“A minor branch of the family tree and not even that renowned.”

“So, what? Prim is the youngest child of Master Gorbadoc, perfectly suitable, besides, you love each other.”

Drogo hesitated, “it’s not just that. . . Grandmother Baggins. . . “ he trailed off.

“Go on,” Bella urged gently.

“She says I’m to marry Angelica, she said she won’t have another Brandybuck married into her family. . . “ he lowered his eyes, ashamed, “Or a Took, for that matter,”

Bella should have felt surprised, but truly, she was not. Grandmother Laura Baggins could never suffer The Tooks. . . All of them, Bella was no exception.

The meal went on, until luncheon was served, the empty dishes were taken away a replaced with trays of well-browned quails with roasted oranges, along with roasted vegetables such as carrots, turnips and parsnips.

Carafes of all kinds of wine were served and soon the youngsters begun to get tipsy. And of course, the singing and dancing came soon after.

_“Hey, ho, to the bottle I go, to heal my heart and drown my woe! Rain may fall and wind may blow, but there still be many miles to go!”_

Begun to sing her nephews Saradoc and Merimac in unison, raising their glasses of wine, filled to the brim.

“ _Sweet is the sound of the pouring rain, and streams that fall from hill to plain! Better than than rain or rippling broookkkk. . .”_

_“. . . Is a mug o’ beer inside this Took!”_

Her other nephew, Paladin Took finished for them, raising a huge, dripping tankard of mead instead of a glass of wine, earning a roar of laughter from the Tables.

All three of them strode to their table, toward Bella and Drogo and dragged the reluctant latter out of his seat to join them in a song and a toast.

Prim slid on Drogo’s empty seat next to Bella and whispered, “Oh, Bella I hope he’s going to propose this evening,”

That took her aback, “so, you knew!” it wasn’t a question.

Prim flushed, “I knew he was thinking about it, all those strolls in my father’s gardens, trying to get me behind flowered bushes with the excuse to admire the blooms, it couldn’t be causal, he was always blushing and fiddling with his fingers and staring at his toes.”

“Either that or he intend another kind of proposal. . . An indecent one.” Bella said pert.

Prim turned from pink to red and muffled a giggle against her hand, “If only! I wish I had the gotten Dru to compromise me, it would have be so much easier to make him propose! But he would only just kiss me.”

It was Bella’s turn to laugh. Ever since she had Been a child, Bella longed for a little brother or a little sister, but never felt any lack of siblings after Prim was born. The two cousins were closer than sisters and now Prim was going to be wed! Despite everything Bella would always consider Prim her baby cousin. Prim took her hands into hers, “Bella when he does ask me, today, tomorrow a moon turn from now, it doesn’t matter, when he’ll finally ask to marry me, I want you to be my maid of honor.” She smiled, happy and so very young.

Bella smiled back, “But you have two sisters, surely Amaranth and Asphodel would want to be by your side when you’ll get married.”

“I love Mara and Della to the skies, but you are to me as much of a sister as Them, Bella, and I choose you to be my maid of honor. Besides, you are my first cousin and Drogo’s second, who better than you to celebrate our bond?”

Bella held her cousin’s hands tight, “then I’ll be honored to,” she decided.

Prim beamed up, her cornflower-blue eyes shining with joy, “you will, truly!” she wrapped her arms around her, “Oh, Bella I just can’t wait! It will be the most important day of my life, my wedding bells will ring for me!”

“Wedding bells?” a petulant voice inquired so loudly, half the table turned to stare. Lobelia Bracegirdle walked toward them arm in arm with Bella’s first cousin, Otho Sackville-Baggins. Grinning and bridling, dressed within an inch of her life in a wide apple-green frock, bright to the point of vulgarity. The affair was decorated with bright pink ribbons on the embroidery and on the bonnet. Beside them, there was Bella’s paternal grandmother, Laura Baggins, followed by Angelica Baggins and her two younger sisters in their frilly frocks and colorful parasols.

“Oh-oh, look who had come to put a damper on the evening,” Bella heard Paladin Took whisper mockingly behind her.

“Shhhh!” Drogo warned.

“Dru, are Miss Lobelia and your cousin courting? I have scarcely seen them apart this season.” Saradoc asked.

“There are rumors. . . “

“Pray, of which wedding are you talking about, girls?” Laura Baggins demanded in he stoic voice, raising a silver eyebrow.

Prim hushed instantly, but Bella did not hesitated to take over and shield her younger cousin from her Grandmother’s sharp gaze, “Nothing, just gossip,” she quickly dismissed the matter with an air of wariness.

“Gossip,” Grandmother sighed, “Futile,”Laura Baggins was an old hobbit woman unbent by age, yet had the worn-out, sagged body of mother that bore five children and buried one. Ever since her eldest son, Bungo Baggins married the eldest daughter of the Took clan – a match she had never approved – the annual family gatherings at Tuckborough became a matter of family duty to her. As was Bella.

It hurt that the only daughter of her eldest son – a constant reminder of the Bonds that tied her by marriage and blood to the Tooks – remained stubbornly unwed even at the scandalous age of forty-nine, living all alone in that luxurious Smial her son had built – mostly using his wife’s money – and refusing every suitable match she had proposed since her father passed away.

In Laura Baggins’ eyes, it was downright ludicrous.

But Bella couldn’t give a rap of her Grandmother’s opinions. All alone, in a luxurious, comfortable Smial with plenty of money? She couldn’t imagine anything better.

Lobelia was quick to catch attention, “Bella,” she smiled like she was actually happy to see Bella, “Oh, how long has it been, how very long!” she wrapped her arms around Bella a little bit too tight.

‘ _an entire age would still be not long enough.’_ It had been a year, in truth. A year since her cousin Otho Baggins begun his courtship with Miss Lobelia Bracegirdle.

The two girls were playmates as children , but Lobelia would often try to pull at Bella’s hair and cry to conceal her wicked deeds in the eyes on the adults. Lobelia was a beautiful woman, six years younger than Bella, with dark-hair and white-magnolia skin. Unfortunately all her beauty was concealed by her covetous and grasping nature and by the ever-lasting expression of contemp and distaste. Especially toward Bella.

Lobelia pulled away and gave her a leer, “Gossiping about wedding bells, Bella? Why, do you dream of them, perhaps?”

Bella did her best not grit her teeth. She knew that talks about courting and weddings always drawed unwanted attention upon her, especially from Grandmother.

“But, why, of course Bella dreams of wedding bells,” Angelica Baggins cut in. She turned towards Bella, “You are definitely looking forward to settle down, dear, aren’t you?”

“Certainly, you couldn’t possibly wish to live the rest of your days alone? All alone up your hill,” Angelica’s younger sister, Bryony Baggins joined.

“Unless you do,” the youngest of the three sisters, Calla Baggins offered, “In that case, you would end up like Dora Baggins.”

“Poor Dora,” Lobelia sighed almost in pity as she wrapped herself around Otho like a shawl, “a woman grown and still unwed, some wicked tongues are beginning to believe that-“

Angelica gasped, “Oh, no, you can’t mean. . .”

“Yes, that is,” She looked at Bella right in the eyes, “a _spinster._ ”

Bella’s expression didn’t change, but her lips went white.

Otho, who had remained silent, was giving her an inquiring look. He was an handsome lad, brown-haired, with a snotty, broken nose that gave him a singular charm.

Bella had broken his nose, hitting it with her little, toy-sword when they were only children. She would have gladly broke his nose again, in that moment.

She rearranged her smiles, “I most certainly do, when the time will come,” it was a vague answer, she knew that, but it often worked whenever she wanted to put off insistent relatives that would always pest her about that subject. It was the answer she had always used ever since she was old enough to get married.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seemed to put off Lobelia. She pursed her lips, “well, darling! You better hurry up, you are of a certain age, and you pretty face and figure won’t last any longer. . .Don’t follow poor Dora’s example.”

Laura Baggins wrinkled her nose, “ it’s so shameful for a respectable Baggins girl to whiter and grow old unwed, “ she glanced up at Bella, “you should hate to follow her example and find yourself a dried-up, poor thing and an old maid.”

“I’d sooner follow your example, grandmother. To grow happily fat and early widowed.” Bella replied calmly.

Laura Baggins went red, though her lips went white. Otho and Lobelia looked abashed. The three Baggins Brats flushed all as one. Angelica and Bryony had enough grace to hide their flush against their mittened hands, but little Calla couldn’t help herself and bursted into a sudden laughter that cut through the quiet, April afternoon. The other Hobbits turned their heads towards their table, curious.

Prim. Went red and remained silent beside her but behind she could hear Paladin and Saradoc laughing their heads off.

Laura Baggins composed herself as her face was gradually going back to her usual ghostly pale shade, but still her eyes were fire red with rage, “I ought to slap some sense into you, miss! I have always thought a good blow would tame you.” She whispered, not wanting to catch further attention.

“I’m afraid you would only gain sore, red hands in return.” Bella replied boldly. Truth be told, she ought to be grateful to the boring gathering, for she was sure in any other circumstances her grandmother would have surely slapped her.

“Im glad to see that with all the hullabaloo we’ve put, for once is the Baggins table that had finally decided to run the show!” a crispy, high voice called and all the Hobbits at the Baggins table turned to stare.

Adamanta Took, waddled over them leaning safely on her twisted walking stick. Bella’s Took grandmother was a small wizened lady, completely different in so much more than just apparence from her Baggins counterpart.

Grandmother Adamanta – who loved to be addressed by her herd of grandchildren and great-grandchildren as Granny Ada or simply granny – was a vivacious old hobbit with a mop of curls as soft and white as a cloud and a silver tongue that she claimed Bella had inherited. Her face was sagged and plump, and although she was now old and bent, she hasn’t lost her signature feistiness that too often surfaced, wielding her dreaded walking stick at the occasional ruffian.

Married to the Old Took, _Thain_ of the Shire and mother of twelve children, Adamanta Took had little in common with Laura Baggins – except their mutual grief for their late children and their red-haired granddaughter – if not that she, as well as Laura, was completely well-matched with the standards of the family she had married into. . . Was also to be said that the two women had little love for each other. . .

“Mistress Adamanta Took, don’t bother come all the way over there, dear. You look fit to collapse on the ground, ” Laura Baggins spat, as she took in her Took counterpart as she made her way to their table with little difficulty, “honestly, I don’t even know what it is that is holding you together.”

“Laura Baggins, you on the other hand, look stunning! Didn’t you know? We have arranged a funeral for you, last year, but apparently someone forgot to tell you.” Ada Took spat back, “Now, I see you bullied the child far enough. She is my granddaughter as well, if you recall!”

Many Hobbits turned to stare, abashed to hear the unpleasant exchange of words between the two matriarchs. Laura Baggins turned red as she glared at the Took woman.

Before grandmother Baggins could protest, granny Ada grabbed Bella by the arm and urged her away, “Come, children,” the other followed close behind.

“That woman has lost the common sense she was born with!” granny Took boomed, “and that fool of your cousin as well! Courting Lobelia Bracegirdle, that thrash!”

“So it is true then,” Saradoc said behind her, “They are counting,”

“Likely to get married, “ Prim added, “Otherwise they wouldn’t show up together at pubblic event,”

“Oh, lucky you, Bella!” laughed Paladin, “Guess who’s coming to dinner!”

“pal!” Warned prim.

Drogo clasped her shoulder, “Bella, if Lobelia marries Otho, she’ll become our cousin by marriage,” he hesitated, “And. . . “

“I know,” Bella told him, “Their children will be possible heirs to Bag End,” _if I remain unwed and childless._

Paladin saw the sullen shadows in Bella’s eyes and bumped his shoulder lightly with hers, “well, jokes on them, they’ll grow up to be Sackville-Bagginses!”

Bella had to laugh. Paladin was a Took but certainly not a fool and he had his own clever way to make Bella laugh.

“Now, now, Paladin,” said a crisp voice behind them, “The Sackville-Bagginses are your aunt Bella’s family, though not by her choice,”

Gerontius Took, _Thain_ of the Shire, called The Old Took by the hobbits – not only for his secular age, but also for his herd of grandchildren and great-grandchildren – when Bella was little, she had always compared him with one of the great heroes of the legends. Like her great-uncle Brandobras ‘Bullroarer’ Took. Like their remarkable great-uncle, Gerontius Took had always been a big Hobbit man. Taller than most, even now that he was shrunken, thin but muscular. His tawny curls, the same as Bella’s, had now gone to a soft, pure, snowy-white. His big bulbous nose remained fiercely untouched by time as his ever-young deep green eyes - another Tookish trait she had taken after him- even if the rest of his face sagged.

Gerontius had a bad, belligerent temper. In the shire is word was law. Bella was not impressed by his outbursts of temper, his roarings and yelling, Yet, beneath is choleric nature, he had the tenderer of hearts.

“Now, lass,” he asked Bella, “Tell me what went on between you and your Bagginses relatives,”

Granny Took went to her husband side, “You won’t believe that, Mr Took, that frightful woman was again bullying our precious granddaughter. I swear, that woman has no love inside her, not even for her own kin,”

Gerontius patted his wife’s wrinkled hand fondly with his own, fleshless one, the bones moved loosely under the skin, “Now, Mrs Took, we know that sometimes the Bagginses are a little stuck-Ups, but good folks, look at our Bella and at young Drogo, here.”

He offered his arm to Bella, “Now, I haven’t seen my eldest granddaughter in months and I would like to take a walk with her beneath the cedars, come Bella,”

The tall dark cedars made the dim road appear black against the pastel sky of the fading evening.The trees on either side of the road met in an arch overhead.

Branches above her head embraced tight, turning the long road into a dark tunnel, that her grandfather led her, “Glad to catch you alone,” he joked.

Bella smirked, “well, since you have driven me away from the others,” she knew her grandfather needed to talk to her, “What did you mean to tell me, grandpapa?”

“about your cousin’s engagement,”

“what of it? They are only courting, nothing is certain, yet.”

Gerontius frowned, “my dear, the chap had taken Miss Bracegirdle with him here today, for all the Shire to see, no doubt he means to marry her,” he pointed out.

“joke’s on him, then,” when Bella heard that Otho was courting Lobelia Bracegirdle, she didn’t know whether to laugh or weep for her cousin.

“And on you too!” Gerontius reminded her, “The lass will be your cousin by marriage.”

Bella pouted, “well, that’s unfortunate,”

Gerontius raised one, bushy snowy brow, “don’t jest, lass, you know what that means,”

“I do,” she admitted, “since I have no brothers or sons, Otho, being my first paternal cousin ls my most plausible next of kin, and his children will be possible heirs to Bag End,”

she could see her grandfather frown, “I don’t like those Sackville-Bagginses ruffians, ever since your uncle married them, he had been a fool, not like your dear papa,” he sighed, “ah, Master Bungo was the right choice after all,” he reached out and pinched Bella’s cheek, “he raised a beautiful, intelligent daughter,”

Bella smiled. She knew that the match between Bungo and Belladonna was not well seen, not only by the Bagginses, but by the Tooks as well.

Both the families had strongly disapproved of the match between a Baggins son and a Took daughter, due to old feuds and minor quarrels throughout the decades. The Thain’s voice had been the most fervent. Eventually all was resolved and Bungo and Belladonna wed.

“I know what you fear, grandpapa, but I promise you, no one is going to take Bag End,” she reassured him, “I would not let it go. I _cannot_ let it go,” she declared, fiercely proud, “it is in my blood,”

Gerontius had to smile, his own pride flaring, “you are proud and fierce, I know you are going to be victorius, in the end,” he then sighed, “ but, you dear mama tied the money of her dowry to the estate, Bella,” he reminded her seriously, “should your cousin inherit, you won’t be able to dispose of a single penny. I don’t want to see my granddaughter stripped of house, lands, pennyless, and in disarray,”

Bella didn’t wanted to think about that, she patted his wrinkled hand as they walked beneath the cedars, “don’t worry, grandpa, mama and papa left me one, true heir to Bag End before they passed. Hamfast Gamgee stood as witnesser, if you recall. The paper is valid,”

Gerontius looked uncertain, “I hope so, my girl, I hope so. You know with our laws. . .”

Bella sighed, “I know, if I was married and had a child, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation,”

“Now, don’t be jerkin’ your chin at me, lass, I’m the Thain, that’s true, but I do not own this green, peaceful land we live in, I only rule upon it, I don’t make the law.”

“the law is stupid.”

“there is a way to protect your legacy. . .”

Bella understood, “don’t you start!”

“Bella. . .” Gerontius implored.

“How many times am I to be urged into wedlock every time I come over for tea!?”

“Don’t use that tone with me, lass, I’m your grandfather and your _Thain_ , save your attitude for your Baggins Grandmother!” he raged turning red.

“Well, you sound like her now,” she groaned.

“There’s no lad here in the Shire who caught your eye?” he wanted to know.

No. Although some have tried. Grandmother Baggins, in attempt to settle down her rebellious granddaughter, had brought forward all the most respectable and wealthy chaps in Hobbiton and beyond, to court her.

Dark-haired, arrogant, proud Porto Proudfoot pested Bella constantly with history of his family tree, pointing out that it would be most fitting for them to Wed, since they both came from respectable clans. He also would always correct her, saying that since there were more than one of them the clan’s name was ‘Proudfeet’.

Jolly, empty-headed Fern Boffin kept puzzling about Bella’s gold-red curls, so uncommon for a Hobbit. When Bella told him she had inherited it from her Took grandfather and her Great-grand uncle Bullroarer Took before him. He blinked and said he hoped their children won’t inherit it as well.

Leo Bolger was handsome with his blond curls and blue eyes, kind and clever, he went as far as to kiss her, but then she found out he had been kissing many other girls in the Shire.

Toby Banks had kissed her as well and proved to be the soul of kindness. . . Yet completely clueless about how to run an estate like Bag End.

After them, Bella lost the count of how many suitors had attempted to court her. nor she remembered how did they ended up. Somehow, they all turned out to be greedy, ludicrous fortune hunters, eventually she gave up courting.

“They all proved themselves nasty, rude, stupid or greedy,” she told her grandfather.

Gerontius raised his eyebrows, “All of them?”

“Grandpapa, I promise if I ever met a man, somewhere in Middle-Earth that is brave, good-hearted and Intelligent. . . Without me wanting to punch him in te face, I’ll consider it. But I doubt such man exist.”

Gerontius threw his head back and burst into a roar of laughter, “Ah, you are just like your dear mama, only wed when she fell in love.” beneath the laughter, she could hear the grief. It always hurt to speak of Belladonna, “you are not as flighty as she was, though. You have more sense about you, thank to your Baggins up-bringing, but you are also a Took!”

Bella groaned. Oh, wonderful, here we go! Ever so often her grandfather would preach about with his ‘but-you-are-also-a-Took’ speeches.

Gerontius went on, “Which means that you are stubborn, strong-willed, brave and bold. You would never submit to the will of others,” he declared proudly.

Bella had to agree, “you know me, grandpa. I’d never marry someone because I was told to. Now, I don’t know if I’d call myself brave or bold, but sure I’m stubborn. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t, but I am.”

“You should take a holiday,” Gerontius said suddenly, “leave the Shire, go somewhere until the fuss about your cousin’s marriage had died down. You may find the adventurous life of your taste? As it happened for your mama. And who knows? You may find a handsome, brave, wanderer on your path, find him seduce him and bring him back to shake things up in this too quiet Shire!”

All of a sudden, Bella remebered Gandalf’s unexpected visit, and Gandalf’s unexpected offer. He had offered her to join in an adventure, as it happens. She only nodded and kept walking with her grandfather beneath the dark cedars.

“we should head back,” grandpa told her, at last, “or your grandma will take her walking stick on us!”

They headed back to the yard just as the tea was being served. Many pots were brought forward along with scones with jam, fresh butter and clotted cream. Great pies and sandwiches.

After, Bella was once cought by the the swarm of relatives, answering once again upon the calls for “Bella, Bella, Bella.” When she came up grandmother Baggins.

“Grandmother!” Bella said, startled, “I wanted to apologize for earlier,” she mumbled ashamed, “it wasn’t respectful of me, and-“

Laura Baggins raised a hand to hush her “Never mind that and follow me,” she took Bella by the hand.

“Grandmother?” she asked, confused, but Laura Baggins did not wasted time in further explanation and led her inside one of the many parlors of Tuckborough. Her confusion grew when she found Otho Sackville-Baggins by one of the round-windows.

“Otho?” she said, blinking, “what’s the matter, what are you doing here?”

Grandmother Baggins closed the door behind them, “sit down, dear. We need to talk to you about something,”

Bella sat down on a sofa and grandmother on a chair in front of her, unexpectedly, Otho walked up to her, knelt in front of her and took her hand, , “Bella, we need to talk about Bag End,”

She wasn’t surprised by the mention of Bag End, ever since he was a child, Otho had made great claims that the luxurious Smial should belong to him, no what took her aback was his soft tone, never before he spoke so kindly to his first cousin, “I know how much you care about your estate, but I care as well, and I think there is a way for us to work together to preserve it as a team. Now, more than ever.”

 _Oh, no._ Bella thought. Was he going to ask her to become an agent? Overseer? Co-owner? or was he going for the undreth time to loan him the money for his business?

Otho clasped her hand tightly and she braced herself, “Bella. . . Will you marry me?”

Bella blinked. Now, that, was unexpected, “ _What!?_ ” she cried incredulous.

Otho blinked himself, “it is the wiser course.”

She narrowed her eyes, “You are to marry Lobelia!” she pointed out.

Otho gave a shrug, “I’ll cast her aside for you,”

“Oh, and that is supposed to be a romantic proof of your devotion and loyalty?”

“I can be romantic,” he stood and touched her cheek, “and loyal and devoted, to you and to Bag End, of course, if you will be as well,”

Bella stood abruptly from the sofa and flynched away from, “turn me loose, you ruffian!” she turned towards Laura Baggins, who had remained silent until then, “and what do you have to say about this, huh? Did he tell you what he was up to? Did you laugh?”

“why would I? It was my idea,” her grandmother replied calmy.

Bella’s jaw fell open, “You are mad! Both of you!”

Otho’s mouth became one, hard line, “Come now, Bella, don’t be such a spoiled brat! I asked for your hand as a gentleman, but in truth you have no choice,” his soft tone of earlier was gone.

“I won’t have you on a silver tray, Otho Sackville-Baggins!” she replied full of contempt. Her temper flaring like never before.

Laura Baggins raised a hand, “For once in your life, girl, would you please just listen?!”

Bella folded her arms against her chest and waited for grandmother Baggins to say her piece.

“Now, you certainly know that when your parents wed, your mother signed an act to tie the money of her dowry to Bag End-“

“Yes, I do,”she interrupted. how could she not? The year her mama died, it was the year of the coldest winter ever reckoned in the Shire for centuries. And when the snow had thawed, at last, the crops and the fields had been burned by ice, too ruined to sow them. The lands could not provide for the estate and Bella had almost lost Bag End, “only because you and grandfather Mungo forced mother to sign those papers , a legalized theft-“

Laura waved a hand, “let’s not bring up the past, Bella, it’s the future that should concerns you, besides, your grandfather thought to do the best for the future childrens of his son,”she wrinkled her face, “he was sure your mother would give birth to a boy, eventually. . .”

“Well, she didn’t,” Bella reminded defiantly.

Laura’s lips tightened, “No, she did not.” She hated to be reminded _that_.

Bella smiled sweetly, “you’re stuck with me. Why dwell on that now?” she wanted to know.

“The matter is with your father’s last will,” Laura said.

“What about it? He left me one, true heir to Bag End.”

“That might not be entirely true,” cut in Otho.

She narrowed her eyes at him, “what do you mean?”

“he means that your father was not himself when he wrote is last will, the illness had taken away his wits and the act might not be legally valid,” Laura answered.

Bella was gobsmacked. There was the truth. Her grandmother was ready to question the validity of her father’s last will, preventing Bella, his only daughter, to inherit what was rightfully hers.

She gritted her teeth, and stood straight, “Your argument is invalid,” Bella replied fiercely. She turned towards Otho, “did you truly thought you could walk up to me and force me into wedlock, you ruffian piece of thrash!”

Otho snorted, although his dark eyes were hooded with contept, “C’mon, Bella, we are not children anymore, don’t tell me you still hold your grudges against me?”

Bella could not believe what she was earning, “ _My_ grudges?!”

Ever since early childhood, Bella And Otho could never suffer each other, not even as playmates. He used to pull at her hair and taunt her, telling her that she was way too raggedy and skinny to be a girl. Once, Otho and his awful, little brother, Lotho decided that if Bella preferred to act as a boy, running around the Shire and getting dirty, then she’ll have to look more like a boy. The two Sackville-Bagginses brothers grabbed Bella roughly and held her down and cut off her hair, leaving only few short, sloppy ringlets. In a fit of rage Bella grabbed her stick-sword and went for Otho, braking his nose.

Ever since that, there had been no love between the two cousins.

“You can shout and cry and tear at your own hair, all you like,” Laura Baggins warned, “but, I’ll have you know, Bella. Should that document prove itself invalid, at last, and you’ll find yourself pulled into the streets broke and humiliated , don’t come looking for my help, you won’t get any!”

Bella was on the verge of tears, her grandmother was threatening her. She found the strength somehow, Tookish strength that won over Baggins-y demureness. Her face felt hot and flushed like Gerontius’s in a fit of rage, “Well, bully for that, grandmother!”

Her grandmother glared, “You are on the verge of fifty, Bella. This might be your last chance. How many respectable lads do you think would come asking for your hand once your are old and withered?”

Bella thought about Ted Sandyman’s tease of that morning and decided to act as wickedly and teasing like the willful child of the old days, “Plenty. Ted Sandyman proposed just this morning,”

She was joking, oh she was, but it was enough to distress her grandmother. Indeed, Laura Baggins turned red, “Now, you said that only to hurt me!”

“Well, you started it,” Bella spoke with a calmness that made her wonder if all the love she had for her stern grandmother was gone, after this last slight.

If laura’s face was bright red, Otho’s was pale white, “High and mighty as always, huh?!” he snarled, “Well, go on as proudly as you want, it won’t matter when I’ll prove you don’t own Bag End, after all!”

Bella smirked, “We’ll see that,” and stormed out the room. She made it back into the yard, trying to master he face and her feelings, lest someone took notice of her distress and her flushed face and those awful teardrops that threatened to fall with every step she took when Lobelia Bracegirdle appeared in front of her, “Bella!”

Bella startled, “Lobelia,” she said blandly, green eyes hooded and looking at nothing.

Lobelia took her arm, “I wanted to talk to you. Now, It shouldn’t be a secret to you that Otho and I had been courting since last autumn, and since he brought me here with him today, a proposal is in the air! Oh, Bella, think about it! I’ll be Mrs Otho Sackville-Baggins! Doesn’t that sound heavenly?” she pinched her arm, looking pleased with herself, “And. . . Of course, we are going to be cousins, you and I. A family. And, certainly, there are going to be children. Lots and lots of children! Oh, isn’t it wonderful, cousin Bella?. . . May I call you cousin already? That would be only proper, don’t you thin? It truly won’t be long, now. “

Lobelia was grinning and preaching triumphantly, a bride on the brink of heaven, what a shame her oh-so-called groom-to-be had just vowed to cast her aside to marry Bella instead.

Lobelia, apparently, shared her beau’s ambitions and degnines to throw Bella out her door and live in Bag End, boasting and laughing, flaunting herself at Bella. Well, she was mighty wrong. The thought made her mad with anger as hot as a fever, her Tookish side flaring. She wanted to service her, telling her that she was a fool, that Otho was ready to cast her aside, to humiliate her in front of the whole Shire. . . But she didn’t. Her Baggins-y side had won, at last, and imposed that she was not like the likes of the Sackville-Bagginses. No, she was A Baggins of Bag End, honorable and respectable.

She patted Lobelia’s hand and murmured her goodbyes, ready to run away and never let it bother her again, but then, Otho emerged from the Smial, “Oh, you won’t sing your song for long anymore, Bella Baggins!” he shouted so loud that all the Hobbits in the yard turned to stare, “mine was a gentleman’s offer, but you leave me no choice, you’ll find out who’s running things in the Shire, Missy! Your father had turned idiot with illness! You’ll see, I’ll make a beggar out of you and not my wife-“ the fool in all his blurting empty threats, had betrayed himself, for all the Shire to hear.

Bella turned on her heels and walked up to him, “I’ll tear Bag End down, gallery by gallery, burn every forniture, every lock, stock and barrel. Sow every piece of land with salt before I see any of you Sackville-Bagginses ruffians set foot on my threshold! Yavanna’s my witness, I won’t allow you thrash walk a single piece of floor my beloved mother and father had walked upon!”

The Hobbits gasped in shock and horror, witnesseing the greatest battle ever fought in the Shire since Bullroarer Took defeated the goblins during the battle og Green fields. And just as it happened to her great-grand- uncle, the day belonged to Bella.

Heedless of the buzzing murmurs and the glances casted in her direction, Bella made her way across the garden, never turning back once.

As she went, she saw Lobelia’s black eyes leering into hers, hating her, her face was pink, flushed. Her cheek were striped with tears and her lips had become a thin, hard line of loathing and contemp.

‘ _What does she want with me, now?’_ Bella thought. _It was her darling Otho’s plan, not mine.’_

She tossed her head and went on her way, hundred of eyes upon her back. As soon as she was out of Tuckborough, Bella gathered up her yellow, brocade skirts and ran. She sped down the path, leaping over occasional puddles, her toes flying lightly over the soft soil. Only when she saw the approaching plate of Bagshot row, she slowed her swift pace.

She was flushed and breathless, her curls tumbling about her shoulders and messy from the run had espcaped her tight updo. And she, dully, walked up towards home.

A chill breeze caressed her and Bella shivered. The run had left her sweaty and with this breeze she was surely going to catch a cold without her shawl. _I would never ear the end of it if Mrs Bell Gamgee sees me shivering and sweaty._

But waiting for her at number 3 of Bagshot Row, wasn’t the motherly Mrs Bell but, Gaffer Gamgee and Hamson, “Miss-Boss? Are you alright?” the Gaffer asked her as he saw her coming up the hill. Hamson looked at his toes, “We heard what happened today at Tuckborough, Miss Bella,”

After a day like that, nothing could surprise her anymore. She smiled at the lad, “news travel fast in the Shire, huh?”

Hamson reddened, ashamed like he had been the one to spread the rumor, “Yes’m,” he mumbled.

Bella sighed, “and fast too! They reached Bagshot Row before I did!”

“It’s an insult, ma’am!” raged the Gaffer, “those Sackville-Bagginses ruffians! Mighty claims those thrash folks make, spitting their poisons about Poor Master Bungo!”

“We also heard that you gave ‘em quite the lip, Miss,” Hamson smiled proudly.

“I did,” Bella admitted, “and this time for good. I’m through with the Sackville-Bagginses for as long as I draw breath, they won’t get their sticky paws on Bag End!”

The Gaffer nodded in fierce approvation, “Yes’m! You sound like dear Mrs Belladonna,”

“And with all the fuss after you left, Miss, they were lucky they got away with their skins!” added Hamson.

“OH, dear. What happened?” asked Bella.

The Gaffer whistled, “Oh, ma’am, where to start? Miss Lobelia, Mr Otho’s sweetheart, left in fury clutching at her skirts. Young Mr Paladin went for Mr. Otho and almost punched the ruffian, but Mr Saradoc and Mr Merimac stopped him, thank Yavanna! Poor Mr Drogo tried to soothe ‘em but only made things worse. Mr Otho called him a ruffian – can you believe it, Miss? – he shouted and told him that he was a fool if he intended to Marry little Miss Primula. Now, Miss Primula was in tears, the poor child! and Master Gorbadoc began to shout all the unrepeatable things toward the Sackville-Bagginses. Thain Gerontius was so furious Mr Otho slighted you that he almost choked on rage and Mistress Took was close to take her dreadful stick on Mistress Laura Baggins. It was hell, Miss Bella! Hell unleashed!”

Bella could scarcely believe what she was hearing. To think that she had run off, leaving her family in disarray because of the fuss she had caused.

The Gaffer frowned looking at Bella’s sullen expression, “Oh, lass! Don’t you worry, we ain’t let those ruffians trouble you again. The idea of your father’s daughter-“

Her green eyes sought his with gratitude. Ever since her parents passed, The Gamgee had treated her like she was kin. . . Even now that her actual kin had forsaken her.

The Gaffer startled, “No, Miss! Don’t cry!”

Bella let out a watery laugh, her eyes swimming, “Oh, Gaffer! Don’t worry about me, I’ll think of something, I’m clever, you know it.”

Hamson fiddled with his fingers and reddened, “whatever you need, Miss, we will help you, we ain’t far,” he mumbled.

Bella was so grateful that she braced herself on the fence and stood on tiptoe to kiss the lad’s red cheek. _Perhaps I should marry you, Hamson._ She thought regretfully. _How easy it would be; marry the boy next door and call it a day!_

To west, the sun was almost below the horizon and the red glow at the rim of the world slowly faded into pink. The cloudless sky above turned into an enchanting azure-green and dim, distant stars began to appear. Shadows were falling thicker, now. The last warmth of the day faded from the world, and a slight chill was displacing the balminess of April. She looked wistfully upon the bright green hill of the Shire, below her, turned dark in the fading light. The dancing red shimmers of the setting sun upon the dark waves of Bywater.

As the last light dimmed so did her rage, and terror finally struck her. _Sticklebacks! They will fight tooth and nail for Bag End!_ Bella thought to herself. What Otho had said earlier was not entirely a Calumny, Bungo Had been truly turned insane by illness. The winter had been so cold it almost froze his bones, the sudden loss of Belladonna and the fatigue of the starvation was too much for his heart to bear. It had left his body drained and his soul empty.

Bella had held his fleshless hand, his chocolate hair had turned into a dull brown and his body was as light as a doll, “ _There’s always been a Baggins, living here under the hill. . . In Bag End.”_ he had whispered in a thin voice.

 _“And there always will be.”_ she had vowed. Bungo had smiled then, _“Bella, my most darling girl. I’ll kiss your mama for you.”_ He closed his eyes and drifted to sleep, never waking again.

And now, the Sackville-Bagginses were ready to prove that Bungo’s last act of love was a lie. The thought that those ruffians might have a chance to finally levying on every table, bed and gallery, on Belladonna’s shining silverware and the Took’s fine pottery, on her parent’s glory-box and Bungo’s study - Bella’s own fortress - On Her beloved books, on the splendid dogwood firnitures. ‘I won’t let them!” Bella thought vehemently. ‘I won’t let those ruffians set foot on Bag End’s ground, even if I had to burn it to the earth!”

Even when she had closed the green, round door behind her, her fear burned hot and hotter still. Bella leaned against the solid wood and bit her lip bloody. She was very frightened. More frightened than earlier, that morning, when Gandalf appeared unexpectedly at her doorstep. More frightened than when she had lost her parents. for Bag End was the one, true legacy left of Bungo and Belladonna.

Belladonna Baggins took a deep breath and thought that as long as Bag End stood delved into the hillside, and Bella Baggins stood at its Master, no one would come to threat her quiet peaceful life. _‘No one is going to drag me out of my own house!’_ she thought fiercely. _‘not even an entire army!”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Bella, perhaps not an entire army but a company of Thirteen dwarves and wizard will do the trick!
> 
> So, I wanted to narrate Bella’s last day in the Shire and with her family before she join the quest for the Lonely Mountain.
> 
> That's one of the chapter I was looking forward to rewrite because I always believed that, even if many hobbits are not evil of great warriors or heroes, they can still be quite petty.  
> Especially Bella’s relatives.   
> Even Bilbo in the books is pissed with is family, and that's what I wanted Bella to be. She is soon pissed with her family, even Bilbo at his eleventy-one party doesn't hesitate to throw shade at his prickly relatives.
> 
> Fun facts: Otho and Lobelia aren't Married yet and Bella and Lobelia aren't archenemies. . . Yet.
> 
> Drogo and Prim are soon to be married and I felt sad when I wrote that Drogo had learned how to row a boat for prim.
> 
> Well, as always, hope you liked the chapters and thanks for the Lonely kudos! Cheek out for new uploads and don't hesitate to comment even just to say hi :)


	4. Burglar wants a good job plenty of excitement and reasonable reward

Bella had walked the floor, that evening, gritting her teeth at the thought of grinning Sackville-Bagginses invading Bag End.

She had rushed to her study, searching through her most important papers until she found the thick sheet of her father’s last will.

Bella owned two copies of the act, in case one was lost or too ruined, the office of the mayor owned another. She scanned the paper frantically, searching.

All was in order, black on white; Master Bungo Baggins of Bag End left his only daughter, Bella Baggins as one, true Master of the estate and all its lands. She read the clear signature of her father and Gaffer Gamgee’s who stood at a witnesser. . . But there was a clause. She knew about it, she had grew with that knowledge; Bella must wed or Bag End and its lands, along with its incomes and the Took’s money were to pass to her next of kin, her first cousin Otho Sackville-Baggins.

Then, Bella grit her teeth in realization to why Otho had proposed to her instead of Lobelia, that evening; surely it was for convenience purpose. If Bella was to agree at the match, her intended husband would obtain her lands, money and house getting Bella as well in the bargain.

It was commonly accepted throughout the Shire for cousins to wed, first cousins too. So, it wouldn’t be too queer to announce an engagement between her and Otho. Families like hers wed cousin to cousin to prevent their heirs to share their inheritance with other members of different clans.

But Bella realized her cousin was not so a natured hobbit to suffer a bride he could not stand. He needed Bella for social outstanding.

Bungo Baggins had always been a respectable, well-loved hobbit throughout Hobbiton and beyond. Like her father, Bella was respected by her friends, her tenants and by the Tooks and the Brandybucks.

Meanwhile, Otho was not to be trusted. He was known to be a gambler and that he owned money to half the Shire. Also, there were rumors about some nasty affairs he had in Bree-land: something about some factories and Yavanna knows what else.

So, it was predictable that Otho would at least attempt to obtain her hand in marriage, so he would gain Bag End, its lands, its incomes, her father’s good reputation and the Tooks’ money close at hand for his affairs.

On the other hand, he kept his courtship with Lobelia intact, in case of Bella’s refusal. He and Grandmother Baggins were well aware that Belladonna Took had tied the money of her plump wedding dowry to Bag End, leaving Bella in a rather uncomfortable position.

Even if she ever wished to leave Bag End, someday and live somewhere else, she wouldn’t be able to take the money of her inheritance, and if Bag End was to pass to Otho, she would found herself homeless, poor and shamed.

The thought alone had her head throb in anger. Grandmother’s involvement in selling her to Otho – Otho Sackville-Baggins of all hobbits! – was no surprise to her. Laura Baggins had tried ardently to marry off her wealthiest, eldest granddaughter ever since Bella was old enough to court. Despite that, she wanted to make sure her rebellious, not-so-Bagginsy granddaughter would not set in her mind to marry a Took or a Brandybuck, so she attempted to settle Bella with the first available Baggins she had found.

Bella grit her teeth so hard her jaw begun to hurt. She took a hot bath to calm down her anger and ease the soreness of the day and changed into a thin bedgown for the night.

Her hot tub did not help as it should have. On truth, it had made her quite hungry. So, she set about to cook a tasty meal for herself.

The trout was plump and tasty, she had cooked it with garlic and parsley. Soon the whole house was filled with the mouth-watering smell of roasted fish. Bella had lit all the candles in the hall, in the main gallery and in the kitchen. The fire was crackling merrily in the fireplace in her parlor, basking Bag End in gold and orange light. She had just began seasoning the trout, when someone rang her doorbell.

Bella’s brow furrowed in surprise,who on Middle-Earth might been ringing her doorbell at this hour?

She stood and went to the kitchen’s window and peered through it, trying to see who stood at her doorstep, but she had forgot to light the lantern, and it was too dark to see a thing.

Bella was reluctant to answer: the hour was late and she had already changed in her bedclothes!

Sighing through gritted teeth , she strode to the front door, ready to tell off any visitors, wellwishers or distant relatives who might been standing in her threshold.

Bella opened the door. . .

He was taller than her, broad of shoulders and thick with muscles, unlike anyone she had ever met in her life! His bald head was covered in strange black-faded marks. He had a big nose, a black beard, and a scowl on his face. Standing in her front porch, There was. . . A dwarf? A dwarf! What was a dwarf doing at her doorstep?

He turned his scowl toward Bella as she opened the door. The dwarf looked at her, eyes sharp like knives and cold as winter, and, unexpectedly, bowed m. His eyes never left hers.

“Dwalin.” he said “At your service.” His voice was rough and deep.

Bella stood there, speechless. She’d never seen a dwarf before. She was so gobsmacked that her previous intentions were soon forgotten and replaced by her Baggins-y courtesies “Bellado-Bella Baggins…at yours.” She said, tying her robe.

“D-do we know each other?” she asked, startled as the stranger walked in as if expected. He took off his dark green hooded cloak, “No.”

“Ah...”

“Which way, lassie? Is it down here?”

“I- is w-what…down where?” Bella stuttered, more confused than she had ever remembered being. Why had this dwarf walked into her house?

“Supper,” The dwarf, Dwalin, said as he tossed his cloak at her. “He said there’d be food. Lots of it.” He strode toward the kitchen, the wooden floor crunched under his huge, steel-toed boots.

Bella was shocked. “ _He_ said… _who_ said?”

A little bloom of an idea blossomed in her mind. . . Could it be because of _him_?

After, Bella watched mournfully as Dwalin devoured her supper. She sat in a corner of the kitchen as far as possible from him. He ravened the whole trout, head to tail, leaving only the fishbones. The vegetables, Bella noticed, remained untouched.

“Very good this. Any more?” he asked, chewing on the last mouthful of trout.

“What…” she did not know what to do in front of this rather unexpected situation. She ought to be hospitable and polite and hope that the wandering dwarf had simply picked the wrong house. Although, she had never heard of dwarves venturing in the Shire…

“Yes, yes…” she stood and offered him a plate of scones, not before saving one for herself.

“Help yourself.” She said politely.

The dwarf. . . Dwalin? Took the plate from her fingers, eyes watching hers, wary and strange, and bent his huge head into the plate.

“It is just…” she began, not quite finding the right words. “…I- I wasn’t expecting company, I-“

The doorbell rang again.

For a moment Bella stood there, unsure of what to do.

Dwalin peered at her, his black beard covered in crumbs, “That would be the door.”

When she opened the door, There was a second dwarf standing in her threshold. Shorter, older and inarguably less managing than Dwalin, the second dwarf looked like every little girl’s favourite grandfather. He was dressed in deep scarlet robes, with a long, hooked nose and a long, fine white beard.

Unlike Dwalin, the second dwarf smiled at her. He opened his arms and exclaimed, “Balin! At your service!” then, bowed as Dwalin did.

“Good evening.” Was the only thing Bella managed to say.

“Yes, yes, it is! ” Balin agreed. “Although I think it might rain later,” he stepped in, uninvited, “Am I late, lassie? ”

Bella could only stare at him for a moment, “late…for _what_?”

“OOOH! Evening, brother!” Balin ignored her question and turned toward the parlour where Dwalin was emptying her jar of biscuits.

“By my beard! You are shorter and wider than last we met.” Dwalin laughed as he towered above Balin.

“Wider, not shorter, sharp enough for both of us.” Replied the latter, sharply.

Laughing, the brothers clutched at each other’s shoulders… and headbutted each other’s foreheads hard.

Bella stepped back, startled. “Excuse me! Sorry, hate to interrupt, it seems to me that you are of close kindred, the thing is…I- I’m not entirely sure you are in the right house…” she said, all calm and reasonable, even if her whole body quivered like an harpstring.

She tried to talk with the dwarves, but they completely ignored her and somehow found their way to her pantry, in the maze that were the galleries of her Smial.

Bella padded after them, trying to reason with her unexpected guests, “It is not that I don’t like visitors…I- I like visitors as much as the next Hobbit…but I do like to know them before they come…visiting.”

Her words were failing her and she could only witness the dwarves as they were messing in her pantry, they had poured themselves two large tankards of ale, and were now messing with her cheeses as well. Bella was running short of patience.

“the thing is…mmm…the thing is I-I don’t know any of you…”

Dwalin grabbed her delicious blue cheese, gave it a suspicious sniff and tossed it behind his shoulders, sending it rolling at Bella’s feet.

 _‘Oh, for the love of…’_ The two dwarves ignored her. No one ever dared to behave like this in her own house! To enter uninvited and act like they belonged here, it was unthinkable.

“…not in the slightest. I don’t mean to be blunt but I- but I have to speak my mind, I’m sorry!”

Balin and Dwalin suddenly turned toward her at the word, and for a moment Bella hoped she had finally made her uninvited guest to listen to her, but Balin gave a her a gentle smile and said warmly, “apology accepted!”

Bella could feel her neck tighten. Her mouth fell open. ‘did he just...

No one ever dared give the lip in her own house! Although, she felt a swell of strange fondness for the old, white-bearded dwarf who was a complete stranger.

She opened her mouth to speak, to take over the situation before it would be too late, but the doorbell rang for a third time and she marched back into the front door.

Standing in her doorsteps this time there wasn’t just a dwarf, but two dwarves, no less. Bella was not surprised by now.

This time the two dwarves were much younger than Dwalin and Balin; the first had long braided hair as gold as honey and braided moustaches that were kept in place with little metal pearls that shimmered in the moonlight, he had sky-blue eyes and a brown furrowed coat. The second was the complete opposite of the first one; he had long dark hair, not braided, but tangled and wild, his eyes were large and brown, and instead of a beard or moustaches he only had a dark stubble. Despite their differences Bella could tell that the lads were brothers.

“Fíli!” said the blond dwarf. “and Kíli!” exclaimed the dark-haired one. They bowed deeply, in perfect unison, and in perfect unison they exclaimed “at your service!”

 “you must be miss _Boggins_!” said the brown-haired lady - Kíli, the younger, she presumed - smiling, as teasingly as a child.

Bella winced at the mispronunciation of her name, already infuriated by the first two dwarves who were messing with her goods as she stood greeting two more, “No! you can’t come in, you’ve come to the wrong house!” she made to close the door in the lads’s faces, but the two pushed it back open.

“What!” cried the dark-haired dwarf, sudden concern plain on his face,“it has been cancelled?” he asked.

“No one told us, ” agreed the blond lad.

Bella was witless with confusion, “What…nothing has been _cancelled_!” She snapped.

“Well, that’s a relief!” the brown-haired dwarf swept in, the blond one eyed her for a moment, then smiled and walked in like he owned the place.

Bella trailed after them, more than ready to give them a proper tongue-lashing, when the blond dwarf turned back to her, “careful with these, I just had them sharpened.”

Bella froze and her eyes widened as the lad began to load her with all kinds of weapons. For a moment, her anger and confusion were replaced with childish wonder, there were swords and daggers and all kinds of knives. Some had strange symbols carved upon them, some were shiny and well-polished and some were old and overly used. Bella had read of weapons like these, in some of the books of heroes and warriors, of her library. Not even her Took grandfather had weapons quite like these hanging over his fireplace as old thropy

“It is nice, this place!” mused the other lad, kíli, looking around the luxurious Smial in wonder. “did you build it yourself?”

“Eh? Oh, no, no. My father built it years ago- THAT’S MY MOTHER’S GLORY-BOX! COULD YOU PLEASE NOT DO THAT!” she yelled, unable to move with an armful of dangerous weapons as Kíli scraped his filthy boots on her mother’s precious rosewood box.

She cried in horror as she witnessed the scene, “Oh, no, you ruffian! Stop that immediately or I’ll box your ears out until you’ll get blisters!”She went for him, struggling with her armful of sharp weapons.

The dark-haired lad, Kíli, raised his hands in surrender and stepped away from her mother’s glory box, with a sheepish smile on his face.

Dwalin emerged from the kitchen, “Fíli, Kíli! C’mon, give us a hand!” he wrapped a huge mark-clad arm around Kíli’s shoulders. “Mister Dwalin!” the lad greeted him. Fíli followed the others dwarves in the kitchen, Bella went after them as quick as she could, loaded as she was.

“let’s shove this in the hall, otherwise we’ll never get everyone in.” Balin said as the other dwarves began to lift her wooden table.

Bella stopped before the scene, panting, weighted from the large amount of heavy weapons she was still carrying in her arms and more shocked and confused than ever.

“ _EVERYONE_? How many more are-“

Once again, the door-bell rang.

“Oh, no. No, no, no, no, _NO_!”

Fed up, Bella dropped violently the weapons to the floor and charged for the door, face flushed and ears burning.

“There’s nobody home! Go away, and bother someone else! There’re far too many dwarves in my kitchen as it is. If this is some cluthead’s idea of a joke, I can only say, it is in very, VERY poor taste!”

She furiously grabbed the handle, and pulled the door open…

…and they all fell in, one on top of the other, crying and yelling in evident distress of being piled up and crashed against the floor. More dwarves, eight more!

Bella jerked back, startled. Her hand went to her mouth, suppressing a yelp. When she looked up she saw him, leaning on his staff, behind the pile of dwarves. Back bowed, he peered inside and _smiled_ at her. Him, the one who, as she had suspected from the start, was the source of this messy and unexpected gathering.

“Gandalf.” She hissed madly.

He simply smiled at her, beneath his pointy blue hat.

Bella went for him, but one of the dwarves shoot up from the floor, blocking her way. He had a big floppy hat, two long braided black moustaches and dancing brown eyes. When he saw her his eyes widened and trailed over her body, intent on her curves underneath the fabric. Suddenly Bella wished she had more than a thin bedgown to cover her nakedness. She fought back a flush. When the dwarf’s eyes finally glanced back into hers, with a twinkle in them, his hat went to his hand, revealing a fall of fine black hair combed into two braids, then he bowed, eyes on hers still dancing.

“Bofur. At your service, lassie.” He murmured.

At floppy-hat’s side appeared two dwarves; one was the fattest being Bella had ever seen. The top of his head was bald and shiny with sweat, but he had some blazing ginger hair that circled around his temples like a ring. He had two big, round, red cheeks, a double, plump chin, a nose as big as a potato and two huge ginger moustaches, along with a couple of ginger sideburns. a huge braid that reached his swollen belly rested around his neck like a chain. His small blue eyes looked at her in a much more restrained way than the first one. His small mouth curled upward and he bent in a bow…or a least he tried to.

“Bombur. At your service.”

The third dwarf was taller and slender, he had coarse long hair combed in many and different scattered braids that faded from black to grey to white. He had wide-open stark grey-blue eyes that seemed to look everywhere and nowhere. When they finally locked on Bella, he stared at her for a long, long moment as if he could not decide she was there or not. He bowed as well, but when was the time to introduce himself to her, like the others dwarves did, he instead, blurted out words in a harsh and guttural language that Bella did not knew.

Bombur and his strange-eyed companion strode past her without another word, but the floppy-hatted dwarf, Bofur, lingered at her side.

“He’s Bifur,” he explained to her. “and he is… at your service as well.” He smiled.

“What? He – you! They. . . Dwarves?”Bella stuttered in utter confusion.

The floppy-hatted dwarf snorted in amusement, “And you must be Miss Bella, eh? lassie?”

Bella nodded, neck tight. Still stuttering nonsenses that made so much more sense in her head.

“Aw, what’s the matter with ya?”the dwarf asked, pinching her nose, “the cat’s got your tongue?” Floppy-hat swept past her before she could do or say something.

Two large dwarves came to her: the first one, had a long dark red mane and a great dark red beard, combed in many complicated braids, set by little metal beads. He had a big nose and a grumpy look on his face. The second dwarf was older, he had a long aquiline nose, hair, as grey as ash and, a long beard combed in a forked braid. Bella noticed he was holding a small metal trumpet against one ear. He was deaf.

“Óin and Glóin, ” They rumbled, “at your service.” Both of them carried themselves quite proudly and, bowing deeply, they strode toward her kitchen like a couple of fierce old lions.

After it was the turn of a more peculiar bunch; three dwarves that introduced themselves as the ‘Ri brothers’.

The oldest gave her a strange look. He had the same judicious air that Grandmother Bagging usually loved to muster.

Yet, Bella found she was not able to not look at him. his hair was like silver smoke, his beard was well-tended and it combed into two braids that met gently under his chin. They were held by a long, silver case with strange marks carved on it. He wore deep purple robes, so deep that they almost looked black in the candlelight, and His eyes had the same silver of his hair. he was stocky, powdered and perfumed, unlike some of the others.

The second brother was leaner and thinner, but he was no lesser sight; His rusty-brown hair and beard were cleverly combed in the shape of a six-pointed star, decorated with metal clasps. he wore brown robes and leathers, tied at the waist by a shimmering silver belt. He gave Bella a look as insolent as the floppy- hatted dwarf, and he even winked at her.

The youngest of the three was meeker and shyer, his bowl-cut hair had the same rusty colour of his older brother, but lighter. He was still clad in his grey hooded-cloak, shoulders hunched. Bella noticed a big book he clasped against his chest. She also noticed that the lad couldn’t quite look her in the eyes and flushed bright red whenever he tried to.

“Dori, Nori, and Ori. At your service!” they gave their bows and went on.

Bella moved to follow, but a shadow moved in front of her.

Bella put her hands on her hips. “I suppose that’s what you meant with ‘I shall inform the others’ Right, Gandalf?”

The wizard looked at her from beneath his bushy eyebrows, eyes gleaming. “Oh, my dear Bella. I only gave you what you asked for.”

Bella almost wanted to laugh at the wizard’s face, “I’ve never asked you anything!”

Her outburst only seemed to amuse him “yes, yes, you did. Twice, as I recall.”

Bella opened her mouth to protest, to make him tell her why there were twelve dwarves messing with her kitchen, and why in the Valars names he brought them up here, but the wizard was faster.

Gandalf sniffed the air “Ah! Supper is ready!” he bent his back to enter the gallery and disappeared into her kitchen.

She had made a quick trip to her bedroom, changing into more comfortable – and, less revealing – clothes. She chose a simple brown skirt, a light white blouse and a brown leather belt.

There was a sound of dishes shattering on the ground from the kitchen.That made her fly from her room. She darted in the hall and the scene that she found had her almost burst into screams.

There were chairs and tables and dishes that were moved and lifted here and there and into the hall, where they, apparently, were setting a great table for supper. She watched in horror as the dwarves loaded their arms with meat, cheese, eggs, ham and wine and carried it to the table. Completely looting her pantry.

They did not even Spared her desserts.They took her seed-cakes, her apple-pies, lemon cakes, scones, cheese-cakes…

She had been frightened before, the thought of the Sackville-Bagginses flaunting themselves at her as they threw her out her door, winning and grinning was almost unbearable – but this was worst – these dwarves, beings she had never meet before in all her life had completely invaded Bag End!

They pillaged the pantry. Not even mentioning what they’ve done to the bathroom, they all but destroyed the plumbing! Despite the notion of Gandalf’s obvious involvement, she couldn’t quite understand; what were they doing in her house?!

She stepped into the storm.

“Excuse me, that’s my chicken! That’s….is that…that’s my wine! EXCUSE ME!”

When she reached for the dwarf, he turned to her and Bella froze. It was the one with coarse black-grey hair and wide strange eyes, but she noticed something else now that she looked at him better; he had an axe embedded on his forehead. The sight of it should have made her jerk away and yelp, instead she found she could only stare at it in wonder.

How could this Dwarf be alive with a rusty axe embedded on his forehead?

The dwarf… Bifur? Looked closely at her and murmured something in that harsh, guttural language.

“He’s got an injury.”

Bella turned. The grey-bearded Dwarf with the hearing trumpet, Glóin…or Óin? stood in front of her with a basket of yellow apples under one arm.

“Oh, you mean the axe in his head?” she asked sarcastically.

“DEAD?” he yelled, trumpet in ear. “no, only between in ears…his legs work fine.”

He strode past her, and Bella could only witness the mess that was her Smial, now.

She tried everything she could to make the dwarves stop, to make them listen to her. She reasoned, she argued, se threatened, and finally she begged. Even that failed. Everything she could do was save her precious-prized tomatoes from the dwarves’s hunger.

As she strode past them, she heard them mutter amongst each other as they gaped at her in wonder. It struck her, then, that apparently the sight of an hobbit was just as surprising for them as theirs was for her.

Some of them were gaping at her figure, questioning why she had no beard on her face, but plenty on her toes.

Turning a corner she found the star-shaped-haired dwarf inspecting the Took’s silverware that came from Tuckborough as a wedding gift for her parents. His shyer, younger brother next to him.

“Fine silver you have here, lass. Where does it come from?” the dwarf - Nori, she remembered – asked examining one of the silver spoons.

“Um, I don’t know. . . Across the water or Bree-town, I think. . . ” Bella answered uncertainly.

The other brother, the younger, shyer one, glanced up at her, “are you sure? Because it looks like good silver, well kept, probably mined from the blue mountains,” the lad said sporting a knows-it-all kind of tone.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, irritated, “look, lad, you are going to have to roll the dice on that,” Bella could not care less of where the Took’s silverware came from.

The star-haired dwarf picked one of the silver trays and axaminated it as well with judicious air. After fussing a moment, he slammed the tray accross his knee, bending it in half, coaxing out a screech from both the silver and Bella.

“You ruffian! Why did you do that?!” she cried out, snatching the now-bent silvertray from his hands.

The star-haired dwarf shrugged, “that was not silver, lass. Someone must have fooled you,” he stated.

“What?” Bella gaped at the ruined tray, “it’s fake? It can’t possibly be! It was my uncle Longo’s wedding gift to my parents! He was always proud of his generous gift, he said it was worth plenty and that my father was lucky to a have a brother like him! ” Bella protested.

The dwarf snorted, shooking his head lightly, “It’s just common tin, I’ll grant you. If that was fine silver as the spoons, the metal wouldn’t have screeched like that. Your uncle had mighty fooled you, lass.”

Before Bella could say something, she felt fingers tapping her shoulders lightly, when she turned, she found the shy, bowlcut-haired dwarf chewing on a mouthful of tomatoes – her prized tomatoes she thought she managed to save from the sack of her pantry!

“What kind of apples are these?” he asked around his mouthfull, “they are all watery,”

“they’re tomatoes, not apples! To-ma-toes!” she said as she snatched the basked from his hands, “and they are not watery at all! They granted me the first place at the Hobbiton’s orchards competition last year, I’ll have you know! Gimme that!”

Just as she had hidden her precious tomatoes safely, the big, fat dwarf, Bombur, emerged from the sieged pantry, holding three huge forms of cheese in his arms.

“Excuse me, a tad excessive, isn’t it? Have you got a cheese knife?” Bella breathed.

“Cheese knife?”Floppy-hat padded beside her with a tray of ham in hand, “He eats it by the block.”

 

Bella stood in her empty cellar that once had been a plentiful, goods-filled pantry.

The desserts never stood a chance; of the tasty seed-cakes, apple pies and lemon tarts, now remained only crumbs and empty plates upon wooden shelves. All the hams, beacon, eggs, cheese and sausages were gone along with the great loaves of hard-bread and fresh one from the morning. Nothing had been spared in the sack, even the salted meat down in her ice-box was gone. For the very first time, since the Fell Winter, her pantry was completely desolate. Save for some cabbages, beans, potatoes and carrots…apparently dwarves didn’t fancy vegetables.

Off in her dining room, the cheers laughter from the herd of uninvited dwarf guests were becoming lauder. They had each a tankard of her sweet mead in hand, raised for a toast. It seemed that they were intent in celebrating something.

She rubbed her hands against her throbbing temples, trying to concentrate. She needed to reflect: twelve dwarves had appeared at her doorstep, uninvited, likely to dine and wine and sleep. With not so much of an explanation and plenty of hungry mouths and quick hands. As she had suspected from the start, Gandalf’s involvement into this nasty business was plain to see, but the whole purpose was still a mystery to her.

What was she supposed to do, now? She couldn’t just turn them out. They had already sat at her table and ate her food, Hobbit’s etiquette compelled her to act as a gracious host. But. . . She couldn’t let them stay all the same, it wasn’t proper for a unwed woman, living all alone to host so many guests all in the same night. Guests she had never met, no less!

She didn’t knew anything about dwarves to begin with!

They were mysterious, reserved folks. Described often by some as greedy and shifty and apparently not so friendly with strangers.

Well. . . They seemed friendly enough to Bella, almost to the point of annoyance.

They were loud and messy and mouthy and vulgar and. . . There was a loud sound of burps from the dining room.

‘ _right. That’s it!’_ Bella marched back into the dining room to show them she was still Master of Bag End.

“Excuse me! That’s a doily, not a dish-cloth!” she said as she marched back in the hall. Bella managed to grab the doily from the star-haired dwarf, Nori.

“But, it’s full o’ holes.” A voice behind her complained.

She turned toward it and, leaning against a wall she found floppy-hat watching her closely, a tankard of ale in hand and a smile on his face.

“it is supposed to look like that, it’s _crochet_.” She explained, all calm and reasonable.

“Oh, and a wonderful game it is too, if you’ve got the balls for it.”

Bella sighed, and looked up at him. he grinned at her. she rolled her eyes at the poor tasty joke, “ ah ah, You’re funny.”

“And your cooking is fantastic!” he raised his tankard for a toast. “Although, we missed you at supper, lassie.”

“Well, certainly you didn’t miss my roasted chickens.” She said, pointing to the small spot of grease on his upper lip. He chuckled, perhaps a little embarassed and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

“I was being honest about the supper, lass. My brother and my cousin Bifur wanted to give ya their compliments.” He smiled again and his brown eyes danced. Bella had to look at him again, he had a good face and a charming smile.

 Helplessly, she smiled back at him.

“But, I think those tomatoes were too watery, not so tasty to me.” He took a drink of ale.

Newly angered, Bella turned away from him, cursing under her breath. She heard velvet steps and a moment later a tall grey shadow moved beside her.

“My dear Bella, what’s the matter?”

Bella looked up at Gandalf, sharply. “what’s the matter he asks?”she spat, incredulous, “I am surrounded by dwarves. What are they doing here?”

Gandalf’s lips curled upward, eyes gleaming softly. “Oh, they are quite a merry gathering…once you’ll get use to them.”

“I don’t want to get used to them!’ she snapped.

Gandalf shot her an innocent look, “Oh, but you say to come over for tea!” he moaned.

Bella pinched the bridge of her nose, “No, I told _you_ to come over for tea, not gather a dozen dwarves I have never met before and had them come over to have tea, dinner and supper!” she protested.

“Excuse me,” a shy voice called at her back, “I am sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?” the young, shy dwarf with the bowl-cut hair crept timidly toward her with a plate in hands.

Bella was about to tell him exactly where he could put his damn plate, but the blond dwarf, Fíli, stepped between them, “Here you go, Ori, give it to me.” He took the plate and _tossed_ it across the hall.

Bella yelped in horror, but, thankfully, Kíli managed to catch it and tossed it again in the hands of another dwarf.In the blink of an eye all the dwarves were tossing and throwing her one-hundred years old westfarthing’s pottery across the galleries.

Trying not to tear her hair, Bella darted back in the kitchen, where the other dwarves stranded banging cutlery on the table, swinging the knives.

“Car-careful! You’ll blunt ‘em!” she snapped.

The floppy-hatted dwarf, Bofur chuckled at her in evident amusement “Oh, did you hear that, lads? She says we’ll blunt the knives!”

Of all the things, they started to sing.

“ _BLUNT THE KNIVES, BEND THE FORKS…_

Silverware and glasses began to fly across the hall.

_“…SMASH THE BOTTLES AND BURN THE CORKS…”_

Fíli and Kíli began cartwheeling through the galleries, catching plates and glasses before they fell.

_“…CHIP THE GLASSES AND CRACK THE PLATES, THAT’S WHAT BELLA BAGGINS HATES!”_

All the dwarves jumped to their feet and made tall piles of all her westfarthing’s service, while Bella ran after them, almost squeaking, pleading them to be careful.

_“CUT THE CLOTH, TRAIL THE FAT, LEAVE THE BONES ON THE BEDROOM MATT! POUR THE MILK ON THE PANTRY FLOOR, SPLASH THE WINE ON EVERY DOOR…”_

Bella chased Kíli, into the hall and managed to reach and grabbed one of her one-hundred years old’s plates, he raised his hands, in surrender, grinning like a fool, deeply amused, she glared at him and sprinted again toward the tall columns of plates that threatened to fall at any moment.

_“…DUMP THE CROCKS IN A BOILING BOWL, POUND THEM UP WITH A THUMPING POLE, AND WHEN YOU’VE FINISHED IF THEY ARE WHOLE…”_

Bella ducked to avoid a spoon that was tossed in her direction, around her the dwarves pulled out some instruments from under their hoods, Floppy-hat was merrily blowing into a flute, Dwalin was playing a little fiddle, between the chaos Gandalf stood, pipe in hand, clearly enjoying the scene. Bella, on the other hand, was trying her best not to burst into tears.

“ _…SEND THEM DOWN THE HALL TO ROLL….”_

 Finally, she reached the kitchen, flushed and breathless, her red curls completely tousled falling before her eyes. She elbowed her way between the dwarves and stopped beside Fíli and the star-headed one, Nori.

_“…THAT’S WHAT BELLA BAGGINS HATES!”_

As soon as the tune ended, all the dwarves burst into laughter, while Bella stood in the middle of the room with her mouth hanging open, everything was cleaned! All the plates, and forks and knives and glasses were washed and put away safely! The sight left her gobsmacked. Never once, in all her years of receiving guests, friends and relatives they ever offered to clean up after a party. And now, these dwarves that she had never met before had gone and cleaned up, and doing a mighty well job too! Never before her pottery and clutery had been so shiny. The dwarves were still laughing and pointing at her evident gobsmacked look and her heart swelled with fondness.

There was a hard knock on the door. Not the doorbell, someone was _knocking_ this time.

The dwarves’s heads turned instantly toward the door, as the sturdy rap ended. Silence fell in Bag End. After a long moment Gandalf murmured “ _He_ is here.”

He swept through the kitchen, toward the entrance.Even more confused than before, Bella looked up at Fíli and Nori. “he…who?”

No answer.Bella followed the twelve to the door.The wizard pulled the door open and was greeted by a deep voice.

“Gandalf.” The new guest swept inside, Bella tried to make it past the others to get a look, curious to see who the dwarves troubled themselves for. But, she could only see his dark cloak as he stepped inside.

“You said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way. Twice.” The deep voice rumbled.

That made her giggle. _‘lost his way in the shire? twice? The fool!’_

“I wouldn’t have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door.”

“A _mark_?” Bella’s smile fell. That was the last drop! She charged to her green round door, the new guest completely forgotten. she looked up a Gandalf. “it better not be any mark on that door, Gandalf! It was painted a week ago!” she tried to peer at the damage but Gandalf closed the door quickly.

The wizard looked at her without a trace of guilt and said. “I am afraid there is one, my dear Bella, in fact I put it there myself!”He glanced over her, “Belladonna Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company…Thorin Oakenshield.”

Bella looked over where Gandalf was glancing and her breath caught.This one is different, she thought. He must have been a very important dwarf.

The thirteenth dwarf was observing her closely. He moved to her, his steel-toed boots heavy upon the wooden floor, yet, somehow, he was light on his feet, graceful. moving as elegant as a wolf. His eyes locked on hers, they were blazing blue, burning like a distant star, framed by stern and beautiful features that seemed to be carved into stone. Only a few streaks of silver marred the lustrous, long fall of hair as black as night. His nose was sharp, his beard was short, but well-tended. two small braids rested under each temple, bound by two large silver shimmering beads.

he was the most handsome being Bella had ever looked upon. He was wearing a large ring-mail under his furrowed coat. At his waist, he had a silver belt, glittering with blue gemstones almost as blue as his eyes…

As a matter of fact, he was completely clad in beautiful deep blue robes. Bella’s eyes fell on the hilt of his sword, that hung half-hidden beneath his cloak. . . And upon a branch? A oak branch, she noticed. Why was this dwarf carrying an oak branch within his sword?

“So, this is the Hobbit.” He said in his deep, velvet voice. His eyes burning into hers.

Heat rushed to her face.

The black-haired dwarf stepped forward and began to circle around her, like a wolf stalking Its prey, “Tell me, Mistress Baggins, have you done much fighting?” he asked.

Bella raised an eyebrow. ‘ _is he serious?’,_ “Pardon me?” she said as she twirled to meet his face

“Axe or sword, what’s your weapon of choice?”

Bella recognized the familiar bittersweet taste of sarcasm in his tone, and just a tiny hint of mockery…

“Oh, well, I do have some skill at _conkers_ , if you must know…” she said with equal sarcasm. She put her hands on her hips and crocker them to one side, “…but I don’t see why that’s relevant.”

He crossed his arms, eyes wide and raised eyebrows “I thought as much…she looks more like a grocer than a burglar.” The other dwarves all gave amused snorts and laughter at the comment. The dwarf. . . Thorin conceded her a half smile, and strode to the kitchen.

 _‘Burglar?’_ Bella felt her face was hot and flushed. She stepped forward and let her mouth run free.

That would have been a very good time to keep her mouth shut. But, Bella’s mood had been foul since the whole evening began, too foul for wits. And the dwarf started it!

“Oh? And tell me, have you met many grocers, Master dwarf?”

The dwarf took the bait. He stopped in his tracks and slowly turned back to her. Bella noticed that all the thirteen were looking at her, eyes wide in surprise and tense. Indeed. A good time to keep her mouth shut.

Bella stood as straight as she could, she felt Gandalf’s eyes upon her, as heavy as a touch.

The blue-eyed dwarf stared at her, eyes like burning ice “Not as many as you, I am sure.” He turned away and stepped into the kitchen.

 

 

 

“What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?” Balin asked the dwarf Gandalf called Oakenshield as he ate his stew, “Aye, envoys from all seven kingdoms.”

The dwarves cheered around the table. “Ah, all of them!”

Bella had no idea of what they were talking about.

She sat in the corner of the room, nibbling a cookie to settle her growling stomach. She had not eaten since she had gotten back from Tuckborough earlier that evening and all the fuss of her unexpected guests had left her tense and exhausted.

And, of course it was hard to cook a hot meal with an empty pantry. She somehow managed to cook a quick stew with the carrots and potatoes that were spared after the raid of the dwarves, she also found a good chunk of fresh meat down in the cellar, in her icebox.

She offered it to Master Oakenshield. After all, the dwarves had cleaned up for her - even if they caused the mess in the first place - the least she could do, as a gracious hostess, was to offer a hot meal to their leader.

Bella served a bowl of thick stew to Thorin. The dwarf had looked at it with surprise. . . Almost taken aback, but Bella couldn’t really tell behind his stern, stone features. She stared at him warily. He looked like the heroes of the tales she used to love as a child. And he was truly quite beautiful. . .

Well, for a dwarf.

They were often described as bearded, stocky brutes, greedy and shifty, but this one was something else. He must have felt her gaze upon him, for he looked up from the bowl she had placed before him, met her eyes, accepted the meal with a nod and a polite: “Thank you.”

For the second time in his presence, heat rushed to Bella’s face. It will not do. She thought to herself. Half the Hobbits in the Shire would question her good sense if they’d ever find out she was hosting thirteen dwarves under her hill, not to mention swooning over one of them.

Oh, if only it wasn’t for that stupid song! With all the commotion and the loud instruments, she was sure all her neighbors were cowering in their beds, poor things. Likely, some of them might have already called the rangers for the noise and she was surprised Gaffer Gamgee had not yet stormed in wielding his gardening tools.

At the other side of the table, Bella noticed the big, ginger dwarf, Bombur, staring longingly at the stew. Without a second thought, she reached and filled him a large, thick portion. The big dwarf thanked her with a large smile.

“What did the dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Is Dáin with us?” Dwalin wanted to know.

At that Thorin tensed, his grip tightened on his spoon. Bella winced. He looked like he might break the solid oak table with his bare hands.

“They will not come.” He finally said, surprisingly calm. “They say this quest is ours and ours alone.”

At his words, the table went silent, disappointment plain to see on the bearded features of the dwarves, yet, Bella lit up like one of Gandalf’s fireworks, alert like a child at the word, “you’re…going on a quest?” she asked uncertainly.

At that the dwarves stirred, as if they suddenly remembered she was in the room with them. They all slowly turned their heads toward her.

But if the dwarves had forgotten about her, Gandalf certainly did not, “Ah, Bella, my good girl…We deserve a little, more light.”

Dutifully, Bella went to the other room to fetch more candles, keeping her sharp ear on Gandalf’s words.

“…Far to the east…over ranges and rivers…lies a single solitary peak…”

A voice gave an answer. “Aye! Óin had read the foretells….and the foretells says…it is time”

“Ravens had been seen flying back to the mountain…. The reign of the Beast will end.”

Bella froze, and then walked back to the table with more candles and a question on her lips, “what… _Beast_?”

Floppy-hat blew a ribbon of grey smoke from his pipe. “Oh, that would be a reference to _Smaug_ the terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks. Extremely fond of precious metals!”

Bella frowned, understanding “yes, I know what a Dragon is.” Yavanna knew she did. Ever since she was a child she had always been fascinated about dragons.

Gandalf’s eyes gleamed softly in the candlelight. “Of course, you know, I have told you about them.”

She suddenly remembered an old dream, or was it an old memory? Of a little smoke dragon twisting and roaring…

That gave her a shiver. “Gandalf, when you told me that story, long, long time ago, you were speaking of…him? of Smaug?”

The grey wizard nodded.

Bella leaned over Thorin’s broad shoulder, at the head of the table, she had noticed the small map, it was one she did not possess. All her maps were of the _Eriador_ and the north lands. This one seemed a map of the east, it had a beautiful paint of a solitary high mountain, painted in red ink, flying above the lonely peak, there was a dragon. there where strange runes too, similar to the ones that the dwarves had carved upon their weapons.

“The Lonely Mountain. . . “ She whispered.

“Erebor.” Gandalf whispered Back.

Bella raised her eyes to his.

“This is one of the stories I have never told you, my dear. Over a hundred years ago, this ancient, solitary mountain was a kingdom. The like of which you will not find in the world today. the ruler of this ancient kingdom was Thror, King under the Mountain. The mightiest of the Dwarf-Lords. Now, my dear Bella, concerning dwarves, I am afraid I can’t tell you anything, for great part of their history and lore is terribly secret and shared with few, But I assume that you are aware that Dwarves are renowned miners, blacksmiths, and jewellers. Their skill is unequalled in all Middle-earth. Ever they delved deep down into the dark, below the mountain….it’s wealth in gold and precious gems seemed endless, and all the lands around the great kingdom prospered, Until Smaug.”

“For Dragons covet gold with a dark and fierce desire.” Bella quoted, remembering Gandalf’s words of a summer night, long ago…

Gandalf’s gleaming eyes flashed bright and blue for a brief moment, “Oh? I am glad you remember that part of the story.”

Bella turned toward the table and froze. The dwarves were all staring at her, thirteen pair of eyes wide and alert, shining in the candlelight.

“The Dragon attacked the Mountain?” she asked carefully, “that’s why you’re all here?”

White-bearded Balin answered her, “Yes. The Dragon attacked the mountain…and we are wandering across Middle-earth in disarray ever since. Tomorrow, come dawn we will begin our journey to reclaim our Kingdom and slay the Beast, yet, the reason why we ventured here, in your green Shire and in your beautiful house, Miss Baggins, is another different matter. ”

Her heart swelled with fondness for the dwarves for a second time that evening: earlier she had been afraid to lose her beloved Bag End to those Sackville-Bagginses ruffian, but these dwarves had lost it to a dragon. She couldn’t help but feel for them, suddenly, her previous feelings of surprise and irritation were gone.

“What about the king?” Bella wanted to know,“Was he the one who sent you all to this quest?”

She swore she heard someone snicker. She glanced over at the other head of the table and saw Kíli’s shoulders shake, repressing a laugh. Soon the whole table erupted into laughter.

She scowled. “What is it? What did I say?” she asked impatiently.

Dwalin leaned closer. “Did the wizard tell you anything, lass? He is here with us.”

Bella’s head turned instantly toward Thorin. _‘It’s him!’_

The dwarf gave her a sideways look. No emotion showed on his face.

Of course it was him! it was too obvious. The way the other dwarves greeted him, his bearing, the fact that he spoke no promises of ‘service’ when he arrived, and actually Gandalf said that he was the ‘leader of their company.’

Gandalf put a gentle hand on her shoulder “Bella, this is Thorin son of Thráin , son of Thrór, King Under the Mountain, if that means anything to you.”

It meant nothing to her. Halflings had no kingdoms. Long time ago, the Shire answered to the King of _Arnor_ , but since the Kingdom was destroyed, the Hobbits elected a Earl, a _Thain_ , although it was a figurehead with no real political authority, since every Master governed his own lands.

Still, Bella stared at Thorin in astonishment. A king. She was hosting a king in her house! _A king!_ Like one in the stories she loved. She felt like she walked in a dream. Every story, every book, every page she turned in all her life spoke of mighty heroes and great kings, fighting battles and going on adventures. And now, there was a king, a true king sitting at her table, eating her stew.

“Ah.”

Was the only thing she managed to say.

Thorin’s brow furrowed. He seemed disappointed, but soon that shadow of an emotion vanished from his stern, solemn, beautiful features.

Bella turned away from his gaze. She was more flustered than she liked to admit, to herself and to any other. She felt like she was suddenly dragged in one of Gandalf’s stories, the ones with kings and warrior and dragons, the though was dizzying, “So, your plan is to slay the Dragon? You all must be very brave!” she exclaimed abashed.

At her words, the young, shy lad, Ori stood abruptly from his chair. “I’m not afraid I’m up for it! I’ll give him a taste of dwarvish iron right up his jacksies!”

The other twelve yelled cheerfully as the lad was forcibly grabbed back into his seat by his silver-haired brother.

The young dwarf flushed, but Bella was ready to bet that his red cheeks were caused more by the large tankard of ale next to him than simple embarrassment.

“The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us,” Balin announced, frowning. “But we number just thirteen. Not thirteen of the best…nor brightest.”

The other dwarves protested proudly at that.

Fíli raised his voice for all the table to hear. “We may be few in number, but we are fighters, all of us.” He slammed his hand on the table. “till the last dwarf!”

“And you forget we have a wizard in our company! Gandalf would’ve killed hundreds of dragons in his time!” Kíli added cheerfully.

The dwarves turned all toward the grey wizard, expectantly.

Bella witnessed with no small amount of amusement Gandalf’s sudden discomfort at being called a ‘Dragon slayer’ and snorted involuntary.

Thorin shot her a chiding look and Bella hushed, looking away. The dwarves began to plunder the poor fellow, asking him the exact number of dragons he had killed. Of one thing Bella was sure, the only dragon Gandalf had ever faced was the glittering fireworks-dragon of mid-summer’s eve, otherwise he would have told her…right?

Soon, harmless chatter turned into an argument, many dwarves went as far as to stand from their seats, bellowing threats from both sides of the table.

Childish amusement faded into sudden concern. “ mmh…sorry, please, please!”

she attempted. Nothing to be done, the lot could scarcely hear her, above their loud arguing.

_“SHAZARA!”_

Thorin stood violently from the head of the table. The whole room fell silent. That strange, foreign word seemed to tame the sudden outburst, even Bella was taken aback by the Dwarf-king’s powerful, deep voice.

“If we had read these signs do you not think others would have read them too? Rumours had begun to spread, the dragon Smaug had not been seen in sixty years! Eyes look east to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighting the risk…perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected! Do we seat back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor? _Du Bekar! DU BEKAR!”_

The air in the room suddenly changed, the dwarves began to yell one more time, this time with cheer, excitement and pride. Bella was once again taken aback, not by Thorin’s loud tone, but by his words, he was willing to go with thirteen to reclaim his mountain, and slay a dragon! And these dwarves were more than ready to follow him…

“You forget the front gate is sealed!” Balin cut in “there is no way into the mountain.”

“That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true.” Gandalf said.

In the blink on an eye, a curious object appeared in his hand. A big iron key.

Thorin’s burning blue eyes widened. “how came you by this?”

“It was given to me by your father, by Thrain.” He offered the grey-steel key to Thorin. “For safe keeping. It is yours now.”

Thorin took the key from Gandalf’s hands and clutched it tight in his huge fist.

Fíli spoke up “If there’s a key…there must be a door.”

Bella lifted her eyes off of the key and raised an eyebrow,“Sweet Yavanna, That little blond piece is not as bright as his hair…” she whispered under her breath.

Yet, too laudly. Thorin’s blue eyes set into her green ones. He raised one, black brow. Chiding her with his hard stare once again. Heat rushed to her face. She gave him a sheepish smile and turned her gaze back into the table.

Gandalf used his pipe to point at the writing on the map. “These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls.”

“There is another way in…” Kíli announced.

 _‘Well, the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, I see!’_ She thought only for herself, this time. The better to keep her mouth shut, lest she irritate that prick of a hairy dwarf-king.

“But, if we can find it! The dwarves’s doors are invisible when closed, ” Gandalf sighed, “the answer lies hidden somewhere in this map. I do not have the skill to find it, but there are others in Middle-earth who can… as I told you before, the task I have in mind would require a great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage…”

He looked at Bella, eyes gleaming, smiling,“…But if we are careful and clever, I believe it can be done!”

Ori spoke up “that’s why we need a _burglar_!”

Bella nodded, approving of their clever plan “mmmh, and a good one too! An expert, I imagine!” she said, cheerfully, wanting to help the brave dwarves.

“And are you?” red-bearded Glóin wanted to know.

She raised her eyes from the map and blinked. Once again, the thirteen were all staring at her, but this time, expectantly…

She froze and her smile fell. She looked behind her, as if hoping the question was being put to someone else, but of course, it was not,“Am I what?” she asked, startled.

Now she understood Thorin’s words of earlier. Bella had a Bad feeling about this.

Óin waved his hearing trumpet cheerfully,“she said she’s an expert! HEY HEY!”

“Indeed, ” Thorin said turning to her. His burning blue eyes met Bella’s green ones once again,“You are admirably suited for the task, I hear.” He said, sarcasm hidden not so carefully behind his words.

The thirteen and Gandalf were all looking at her, expectantly. All it took was one, long look and she erupted into loud, incredulous laughter, “You-you believe me a Burglar? Capable to sneak up on a dragon?!” she cried through laughing tears, breathless.

The dwarves gave grunts and scoffs of bewilderment at her shudden outburst, as if somehow she had offended them by her declaration. They looked so serious that her laughter vanished as suddenly as it came and her breath cought realizing they were not jesting.

“My good dwarves,” she attempted,“You mistake me, I am no thief! I’ve never stole a thing in my life, never sullied my good name!”

The red-bearded Glóin frowned confused, “Then why displaying a rune on your door that would have you marked as a Burglar?” he queried.

Bella shot a hard look at Gandalf’s direction. He only smiled innocently, “What does exactly that mark on my freshly-painted door means, if I may ask?”

“The usual one in the trade: Burglar wants a good job,”

“But, I am no Burglar, I’m telling you. And certainly not one in need of a job,” if there were thieves in the Shire, those were her Sackville-Bagginses relatives after her money and house.

Balin nodded solemnly,“I am afraid I have to agree with Mistress Baggins, she’s hardly Burglar material.”

Bella nodded, relieved and grateful.

Even tall, scary-looking Dwalin came to her aid “Aye, the wildness is no place for gentle-folks who cannot fight, nor care for themselves.”

That started another loud argument. Some of the dwarves agreed that she was, indeed, completely unsuited for the task, others, the few, believed she could not be more perfect.

Bella’s hand went to her mouth, that was all she could do not to scream in frustration. What had she done to deserve all this?

Sudden as thunder, Gandalf stood from his chair, shadows gathered around his body, as if he somehow captured all the light in the room, even the candles seemed to fade.

“ENOUGH! If I say that Bella Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar she is!” he bellowed fiercely, in a dark and rumbling tone, so different from hi usual the calm, soothing voice she remembered.

The dwarves ceased their argument at once, startled. Gandalf’s outburst was even more effective than their king’s, it seemed.

The wizard sat back, and explained the dwarves why a Hobbit was essential to their quest, “As I told you before…Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet, in fact they can pass unseen by most, if they choose to. Look at her furry feet, they muffle every sound, that’s why they are so large and she is so small. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarves, the scent of a Hobbit…is all but unknown to him, which give us a distinct advantage. I have told you a burglar would’ve been essential for this quest, and I have told you, the only creature in Middle-earth suited for this task is a Hobbit, and amongst all the Hobbits, I have chosen Miss Baggins!”

Gandalf glanced at her, “There’s a lot more to her than appearances suggest, and she’s got a great deal more to offer than any of you know…including herself.”

Despite her heart, which fluttered fiercely in her chest, like a bird in a cage, she felt a deep swell of familiar comfort and belonging, toward the wizard. She remembered the old man of when she was a child, and somehow her fear was forgotten. Bella’s green eyes locked on Gandalf’s gleaming azure ones.Wordless, she thanked him for his trust.

A gleam, and Gandalf’s gaze turned to Thorin. “You must trust me on this.”

The two stared at each other for a long moment, a silent agreement.

Finally, Thorin broke the silence “Very well. We will do it your way, “The king turned toward his companions. “Give her the contract.”

_‘No. no, no, no, no, no, NO!’_

“We’re in. We’re off!” the dwarves cheered.

Among their exited laughter, Bella was on the verge of tears.

Balin stood. “it’s just the usual…” he reached and handed Thorin a folded piece of parchment. Thorin pushed it into her chest.

“Summary of out-of-pocket expenses…time required, remuneration…funeral arrangements, so forth!” the white-bearded dwarf explained.

“Funeral arrangements?” she blurted out, startled.

Yet, she unfolded the parchment, the contract, and begun to read it with all the calm and composure she could muster. Bella locked away the frightened young girl, and opened the door to the business woman.

“…Oh, up to, but not exceeding one fourteenth total profit if any. Mmmh…seems…fair, “She muttered to herself as she read.

“Present company shall not be liable for injuries including, but not limited to…”

Bella’s eyes widened in horror, “…Laceration, evisceration… _Incineration?_ ” She turned toward the table, expectantly.

“Oh, aye. He’ll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye, sweetheart.” Bofur offered.

Balin gave her careful look. “You all right, lassie?

Bella was not at all alright. “Yeah, I’ll be! Feeling …mmh…a bit faint, ” She breathed, feeling dizzy.

Floppy-hat stood up from his chair and leaned on the portal of the dining room. “Think furnace, with wings!”

Bella could have strangled him….but she was feeling breathless herself.

“Air! I need _AIR_!” She gasped.

Bofur did not gave up. “Flash of light, searing pain, then….poof! You’re nothing more than a pile of ash!”

Her vision begun to blur and the room was spinning, the orange and yellow of the candles flickered and twisted like swift fire birds. Bella took a deep breath and straightened her spine, Gandalf and the thirteen dwarves were all looking at her, she turned toward them and breathed;

“Nope.” Then she saw Darkness, darkness, darkness.

 

 

                                                                  

* * *

 

 

 

The Hobbit fell flat on her back.

“Oh, very helpful, Bofur” the Tharkun said as he moved to help the halfling.

“And that is supposed to be our burglar?” the king muttered to himself as he rubbed a hand upon his face.

Balin son of Fundin sighed. He knew Thorin had not many hopes toward Miss Baggins, none at all, in fact.

He himself had frowned upon their supposed Burglar as soon as she pulled the door open and he first laid eyes on her.

Small thing, and plump the hobbit lass was. With no muscles nor a beard about her. The only fur to be found was on her incredibly large, bare feet.

So, she was small, soft, hardly a warrior, but truly quite beautiful; she had a long mane of red curls that fell in wild ringlets past her shoulders, shining almost like beaten red-gold in the candlelight. Her eyes were large and clever, sparkling like a couple of emeralds. She had plump, pink lips and a lovely, snub nose. When she greeted him, the lass attempted a nervous smile, but it was enough to show her small dimples at each side of her mouth.

She was all the more lovely when she smiled. . . And so very young. The Tharkun had assured them Miss Baggins was a grown woman and Balin knew halflings had a lifespan so much shorter than dwarves. Might it be that the hobbit before him was no child. . . But with the face and smile of a lass barely grown.

Or perhaps Balin felt so old that everyone he met looked oh, so terribly young?

He frowned again. Miss Baggins seemed a good lass. . . ‘ _But she will soon be a dead lass, if she chooses to sign the contract and join the Company.’_

For better or for worse, by the loud thud with which her body hit the floor, it was plain to see the the hobbit had no intention to do so.

Balin heard Thorin gave a long sigh as he watched the Grey Wizard carrying Miss Baggins’s unconscious, small body into another hall, through a round portal.

At once, all the thirteen moved to follow Gandalf.

“MAKE WAY, LADS!” Oín the deaf healer said a bit too loudly as her moved to examine’s the Hobbit’s head as she had been laid down on a couch.

“Is Miss Baggins alright?” young Ori, Balin’s most brilliant student asked quite concerned.

“A LITTLE DENTED, BUT QUITE FINE!” Oín declared, “BUT I THINK WE HAVE FRIGHTENED HER, THE POOR LASSIE!”

Bofur walked over the couch where the lass was still unconscious. Her chest falling and rising at a steady rhythm “Aw, poor thing. Faints at the mention of dragons.”

“Well, you did tried your best to see she did, lad.” Balin commented.

Silver-haired Dori gaped at the fainted girl on the couch and wrinkled his nose in a snobby fashion, “She wouldn’t do, would she? She’s plump and smol and. . . Well, so clearly a female. And a lewd one too! She opened the door with so much of a bed-gown, at least she had the decency to put some clothes on! Yet, even with a skirt her ankles are still showing!” he said almost offended.

“I think she is a good lassie, got a great heart. . . “ Bofur said as he sat on the couch next to the lass.

Nori flashed him a sly smile, “Yeah, because that’s what you were staring at. At her great heart!” he punched Bofur on the shoulder.

Ori turned bright red, “You shouldn’t say such things, brother. Miss Baggins is our host and we ought to respect her.”

“Oh – oh! I think someone’s had taken a shine on our Burglar!” Nori grabbed his younger brother’s flushed head and gave it a friendly rub.

“A poor Burglar, she would make,”Glóin commented, “if she gets funny, queer fits like that,” he shook his huge head, “a squeak, a yelp in a moment of excitement would be enough to wake the dragon.”

“Well, she didn’t seemed too keen to accept the deal.” Nori said.

The dwarves shot unsure glances at their king. In all that talking Thorin had remained silent, leaning against a wall, with his arms crossed and pondering.

Balin was about to go to him when Miss Baggins slowly regained consciousness.

The lass sat up on the couch, rubbing a hand behind her head, where her skull had kissed the floor. She blinked at the them, examining their faces and slowly opened her mouth to say; “That’s what Bella Baggins hates!” and promptly fainted again.

“ALRIGHT LADS, CLEAR UP!”Oín commanded them, waving his hands to motion them to move, “LET’S LEAVE THE LASS ALONE UNTIL SHE’S FULLY AWAKE,”

As they left her parlor, Balin noticed Thorin looking upon the round-framed paintings that hung above the fireplace. It pictured two different Hobbits; a man and a woman, “Miss Baggins’ parents,” Balin guessed.

The mother was the mirrored picture of the daughter, the two looked alike like two drops of water, except for their colourings, the woman had a thick fall of light brown hair, where her daughter’s were coppery, her eyes were large and brown. a soft blush graced her cheeks, whoever painted the picture took care to emphasize the beauty of the Hobbit woman, as if honour her, love was plain in every brush stroke.

If the mother was comely, the father could not look more homely; the Hobbit man was plump, with big, red, round cheeks. he was beardless and his hair were dark, short and curly. He was not a handsome man, yet his eyes were large, sparkling black pools that gave him a singular charm. Again, it seemed that the painter wanted to grace the portrait with careful, gentle brush strokes that urged anyone who gazed upon the paintings to linger.

“I have seen no one else living in this hobbit-hole, except Miss Baggins,”Balin told Thorin, “I wonder where they could be now?”

Thorin gave one, last look at the paintings, “Dead, probably.” They strode past.

Thorin’s face was dark and his blue eyes distant. Balin knew the matter of the Burglar was not the only thing that clouded his mind.

“Once we have reached the gates of the Mountains, I am sure Dáin will change curse of actions, if you were to send for him again, if you two were to common cause-“

“I will not send for Dáin a again,” Thorin’s tone broked no argument, “I did, he refused the call, breaking faces with me and I am not to ask twice.”

“Not Dáin then,” Balin yielded. Thorin had always been stubborn and proud, and when he had set his mind, there was no changing it.

“Miss Baggins might serve us enough, if she does accept to sign the contract,”

Thorin snorted, “ah, yes. Miss Baggins, the Hobbit that is currently laying unconscious as we speak. Are we to accept such a burglar? A halfling?”

“A halfling Burglar is still better than none, your Majesty.”

Thorin snorted. “Your Majesty.” He repeated slowly. “you address me with a king’s style, yet what am I king of?” he asked his advisor.

Balin studied him carefully, then, he inclined his head slightly. “A king of proud people.” He declared solemnly.

“A king without a kingdom,” he said bitterly.

Balin saw his doubts and his wise eyes went sad for a moment. “be that as it may, Thorin, whenever we regain the mountain or not, you are a king. Since the dragon took our lives, our home, you’ve been a just ruler for us, for your people. Not only as a king but also as a father, a brother, and a friend. A true leader. And when there was nothing left to believe in, we believed in you, we all still believe in you.” He said in a solemn tone. “your father and grandfather would be proud of you, my lord.”

Thorin inclined his head fondly.

Despite his words, Balin knew that in Thorin’s skin and bones growled a creature of doubt. After the dragon, after the fire, deaths, wars they had faced, the people they had lost. The years he had spent bent on a forge with his teeth gritted in fury toward what he and his had to endure, Balin knew he still was afraid…

… of something greater than the mountain that loomed over him.

The madness.

The same madness that brought a dragon above their heads, that sealed Thror’s destiny, and now was waiting for him through the gates of Erebor. A curse that threatened him, and his nephews, his heirs with golden, blazing claws. That same madness that carried his father away from him…

It was an old grievance, deeply felt and threatening to fester. That’s was the very heart of Thorin’s weakness; for he was king – though, loved and respect - he ruled nothing but a dwelling in Ered Luin, nothing compared to the greatness of the armies of the Iron Hills.

And all the might and strength of those armies, compared to the united forces of the armies of the seven dwarves families would have been more than enough to attempt to reclaim the Mountain and slay the dragon. . . But the armies wouldn’t rise for their rightful King without the Arkenstone.

Therefore, Thorin was commander and ruler of nought but a fist of volunteers, twelve dwarves willing to follow him.

And, if the odds were in their favor, a Hobbit as their Burglar.

When he came home, after his journey to Dunland, and he told them he met Gandalf the Grey in Bree and he had offered them his aid to reclaim the Mountain, Balin knew Thorin was walking on a tattered thread. Yet, the Wizard came to him to light that small, flickering flame of hope in reclaim their kingdom, turning it into a bright flame.

A bright flame that could burst into a fire that would destroy them all.

And then, another Burden the Wizard had decided to laid upon Thorin’s shoulders.

“Do we truly need the halfling?” Thorin asked Balin, full of doubts.

Balin sighed, stroking his fine, silky beard “yes, the wizard has a rather good point, and the lass is truly light on her feet as Gandalf claims, I saw her darting around the house all evening, quick and silent, I’ll grant you that.”

Thorin sighed, yielding. “so be it.” His sapphire eyes locked on Balin’s, “as I told the wizard, I cannot guarantee her safety, nor will I take any responsibility for her fate.

The old advisor was taken aback for a moment, but voiced no complaint, “very well. Though, I am not entirely sure Miss Bella will agree to join us and sign the contract, and if she does…”

Suddenly they heard voices from the nearest room.

 

          ______________________________

 

 

 

“I’ll be alright. Just. . . Let me sit quietly for a moment. “ Bella said as one hand went to the back of her head, rubbing it softly. There will be a lump on it before morning.

“You’ve been sitting quietly for far too long!” Gandalf protested from the other end of the study. Back slightly bowed and head just brushing the curved ceiling of the Smial.

“Tell me. When did doylies and your mother’s dishes become so important to you? I remember a young hobbit who was always off, in search of elves in the woods. . . A young hobbit who would have liked nothing better than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire. . . “

“The world is not in your books and in your maps. “ he inclined his head toward the little, round window above her desk. “It’s out there.”

Bella rolled her eyes, “Gandalf, listen, I am sorry. I may have been a little harsh toward your dwarves, and-and. . . I admit that I quite enjoyed the evening, in truth. Well, except the whole ‘furnace with wings’ part but. . . These dwarves. . . “ Bella took a deep breath. It felt like her heart and mind were at war, “. . . I mean, this quest, it promises a great adventure, of that I am sure. A quest to reclaim an old kingdom. kings and warriors, a fire-breathing dragon. Those are the stories I grew up with and they will have always a place in my heart, and the tale of the Lonely Mountain. . . I can’t even begin to imagine the horrible fate of the kingdom and its inhabitants. And those thirteen are really brave to risk everything to slay the beast, but Gandalf, I can’t possibly join them. I just can’t. . . “

In her heart, Bella felt deeply for the unfortunate dwarves. The Sackville-Bagginses might not had claws like meat-hooks and teeth like razors, but they were greedy dragons nonetheless. And to think about all the lives that were lost in the dragonfire. . . it was unthinkable and it made her all the more fervent to fight for Bag End and not letting it go for anything in Middle-Earth.

“I can’t just go running off, into the blue. I am a Baggins of Bag End!” she said vehemently.

Gandalf pointed at her with his pipe, “You are also a Took!” he reminded.

Bella dropped her head against the the armchair she was sitting on and groaned heavily.

“Did you know that your great, great, great, great-uncle, Bullroarer Took, was _sooo_ large, he could ride a real horse?” the wizard said, pointing his pipe toward Bullroarer’s portrait she had drawed years ago and framed in her study.

Bella was trying her very best for her eyes not roll in the back of her skull, “Yes, yes. I heard that story a hundred times-“

“-Well, he could!”

She made a face. _‘Is he even listening to me?’_

Gandalf proceeded to tell her the story that every Took child had heard ever since the great battle of Green Fields, where her great, great, great-uncle Bandobras Took, known as ‘Bullroarer’ defeated the goblin king. It was her favorite tale and she had heard it a hundred of times. Yet, She listened carefully, since Gandalf was so determined to say his piece.

“. . . He swung his club so hard and knocked the goblin king’s head cleaned up! And-

“- and it sailed a hundred yards through the air, and went down a rabbit hole. Thus, the battle was won-“ Bella cut in.

“-and the game of golf invented at the same time!” Gandalf cut her off as she had cut him off.

Bella inclined her head to one side, “Oh, I do believe you made that up!”

Gandalf sat in front of her, “Well, all good stories deserves embellishments, my dear. You’ll have a tale or two to tell on your own, when you’ll come back.” He said smiling.

Bella looked into his gleaming, blue eyes, “When I was a child,” she told the wizard, “at every Midsummer’s eve celebration, I thought that if I had been a good girl and behaved as any Baggins should, you would have come for me to take me with you in one of your adventures,”Bella snorted ruefully, “but that never happened and nor me or mother had never seen you again. But, I was a child, then. A child that put too much time and trust into tales of mighty heroes and great kings, into great stories and adventures in distant lands. I am a woman, now, and I stopped trusting in tales. I trust in doilies and my Mother’s dishes and in green, round doors. I trust in the sturdy, luxurious hobbit-hole my father had built years ago for my mother. Now, I dream of short winters and in a spring of plenty. I dream of the sweet, rolling hills of the Shire, Gandalf, and I pray they never suffer a fate so cruel as The dwarves’ mountain did.”

Gandalf listened to every word she had to say patiently and with serious eyes, “help them change their cruel fate, then, “ he told her, “sign the contract and join the company.” He said tapping a finger upon the thick parchment of the long contract the dwarves had lef before her to sign.

“You are asking me to sign away my life to walk towards the blazing Jaws of a dragon, Gandalf. Can you promise that I will come back?” she asked him frankly.

Gandalf’s eyes gleamed into hers, he sighed, “No. And if you do. . . You will not be the same. . . “

She lowered her eyes, “That’s what I thought.” Bella stood and began to make her way toward the door of the study, “Sorry, Gandalf I can’t sign this.” She said gesturing toward the contract. “You got the wrong Hobbit.”

Before she could open the door of her study, Gandalf spoke, “You are the _only_ hobbit for this quest, Belladonna Baggins,” he told her kindly.

Bella turned to him, “That is what you want me to believe, though I know I am the wrong Belladonna. Let’s be honest with each other, if my mother had been alive you would have come to Bag End to seek out for her signature, not mine.”

“I am being honest with you, my girl. Yours is the only signature needed on that contract and yours alone. You are the one I chose to join this adventure.”

“I am not my mother or my grandfather or mighty uncle Bullroarer with his club. I am Bella Baggins. A Baggins, not a Took, as much a daughter of Master Bungo as of Belladonna and I am the only one standing between my greedy cousins and my father’s legacy. I’m sorry, Gandalf, but I too, have my own dragons to slay.”

Bella turned away from the wizard, pulled the door open and stepped into the galleries.

 

______________________________

 

 

 

 

 

The door opened and from the room emerged Miss Baggins. The Hobbit, quickly disappeared into the maze of galleries that was her Hobbit-hole. Her steps made no sound.

Balin and Thorin watched her go, silently.

“It appears we have lost our burglar.” The old advisor said with a trace of disappointment but querly quite relieved, “probably for the best.” He sighed, “the odds were always against us…after all what are we? Merchants, miners, thinkers, toymakers…hardly the stuff of legends.” Balin said bitterly.

Truth be told, he had always know, deep in his heart that the great splendor of the last of the dwarves kingdoms had faded the day Erebor burned. And he had accepted the fact the the sons of Durin would never reclaim their homeland. The quest to retrieve the Arkenstone to gather the seven armies of the dwarves against the dragon promised to be a perilous one. A quest from which some of them, or perhaps all of them may never return. And Balin was an old dwarf . . . Older than King Thrór and Prince Thráin had ever been or ever will be.

Thorin looked up at his old advisor, “There are a few warriors amongst us…” The King reminded him with a fond smile.

Despite the relieving sight of his King’s smile – a sight that was becoming rarer with each passing year and that was only reserved to his sister, his nephews and his closest kindred - Balin gave him an exasperated look. “ _Old_ warriors.” He objected.

“I would take each and every one of these dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills. For when I called upon them, they answered. Loyalty. Honour. A willing heart… I can ask no more than that.”

Balin’s brow furrowed and he shook his head. The quest was a mad idea, the plan to journey the mountain with thirteen dwarves, a wizard and a halfling was even madder and to send a hobbit lass to sneak into the mountain through a secret passage to retrieve the Arkenstone while the dragon was still alive was the maddest of them all.

“You don’t have to do this!” Balin pleaded his king, his friend, the son he had never had, “You have a choice! You’ve done honourably by our people. You have built a new life for us, in the Blue Mountains. A life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor…”

Balin lowered eyes for a moment. He took a deep breath and raised his gaze to Thorin’s, “…Is it truly what you wish? This? Thorin…I too remember longingly of the memories of the stone halls of the mountain, the glory of the kings of old, but, have you thought about the consequences? Of what this may cost you?”

Thorin’s face was stone he reached for the key in his pocket and held it in front of him, “From my grandfather to my father…this has come to me. They dreamt of the day when the Dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. There is no choice, Balin. Not for me…” his voice was hoarse, his eyes dark.

Balin saw that. He walked to his King and clapped his shoulder, “Then we are with you, laddie. We will see it done.”

When Thorin set his mind, there was no changing it.

 

______________________________

 

 

Bella bit her lip bloody in the safety of her own room, with a solid, wooden, round door between her and her guests. She needed time to think. She was angry at herself and at that blasted wizard.

What right did he had to ask her to sign that contract? She had no business in dwarves and in adventures, much less in Burglary and dragons!

And yet. . .

Everything she had ever dreamed could be hers with the stroke of a quill. Signing that contract and join the Company of the dwarves would mean the hopes of a lifetime; her most secret dreams somehow set free

And yet. . .

She had learned, only earlier that afternoon that she wouldn’t get everything she wished for only by the stroke of a quill upon a paper.

Her papa had left her Master of Bag End, that was true. But, that very act could be the very thing that would force her to pass her estate to Otho.

She ought to settle down and build a family of her own and not to sign contract of employment for Burglary to steal the Valars knew what.

But, despite herself and all the fuss with the whole matter, Bella admitted to herself that she had enjoyed that evening with thirteen stranger dwarves more than she had enjoyed an entire day with her friends and family.

Yes, the dwarves might have been coarse and loud and hairy but, they did not wanted to take away Bag End like her cousin – although they had invaded it and sieged her pantry – and she unexpectedly found that though stranger and different might they be from her, they shared a similar story.

She couldn’t even imagine the terrible fate of the ones that lost their lives in the mountain, or what came after the dragon and prayed that no one else in Middle-Earth should endure it.

Bella was pained she could not help them, but the plan Gandalf proposed was simply madness. No. They would find someone better suited for the job, someone more apt at. . . Well, burglary.

Bella rose from her bed with her mind made up. She wouldn’t be joining the dwarves’s quest, but she could make sure they’d spent the last night before their perilous journey under a comfortable hillside. They were brave dwarves and as much they deserved it.

After all, she was their hostess.

Rubbing her hand on the lump at the back of her head, that not hurt so much after her fall, she walked into the gallery…

 …Then she heard a voice sing.

It was deep and velvet, beautiful, and it echoed throughout the galleries of Bag End like the rumble of a thunder.

_“Far over the Misty Mountains cold, to dungeons deep and caverns old, we must away, ere break of day, to find our long-forgotten gold…”_

After a moment, Bella realized it was Thorin’s voice. She fastened her pace and followed the voice to the parlour. All thirteen and Gandalf were gathered around the darkness of the room. Red shadows from the dying fire melted with the silvery-blue lights of the moonlight outside the windows, basking the whole room in crimson and deep-blue shadows. The grey ribbons of their pipes, a stark contrast that twisted silver above their heads.

Soon, twelve other voices joined Thorin’s.

“ _…The pines were roaring on the height. The winds were moaning in the night…”_

Bella realized they were singing the story of the mountain. A beautiful, sad song full of sorrow that was sung with thick voices full of longing.

All of a sudden, she was crying, but she didn’t know why or for whom.

Something Tookish awoken inside her and she wished to go.

She longed to see the lands of the song, to cross the mountains paths and to walk the woods beyond the borders of the Shire, beyond everything she had ever known.

Bella looked into the fireplace. The dying flames burned weakly red and golden against the silvery veil of smoke that danced around the little room.

_“…The fire was red, it flaming spread…”_

Suddenly the smoke curled around her, as heavy as a chain and in the blink of an eye, a little grey-silver dragon took shape from the smoke, it curled around Bella’s neck, twisting its serpentine tale and snapping its smoky jaws impatiently, crimson and blue shadows made it look like it was alive, it turned its little head toward Bella and opened its mouth, growing bigger and bigger, as if to swallow her whole…

_“…The trees like torches blazed with light…”_

Silver smoke invaded her mouth, her nostrils and her eyes, leaving her breathless. Bella chocked on the smoke, her hands flying at her throat. She shuddered, coughing, trying to get clean air in her lungs. Suddenly, she realized that the song ended, and they were all looking at her, eyes shining in the dark.

Heat rushed to her face, all the dwarves stared at her, perplexed.

“Are you alright, my dear?” Gandalf asked her, in a tone that suggested that he knew exactly that Bella was not startled by simple smoke. He laid a gentle hand on her shoulders.

“Of course!” Bella said, hurriedly. She searched the room and met Thorin’s blue eyes. The song was over and she was suddenly plain Bella Baggins again.

She felt like a stranger in her own house, that song was sung with thick longing voices full of sacred purpose. Somehow, she felt guilty for it. It was their quest, their kingdom. Bella had no place in it, no matter they had come to Bag End to seek out her help.

“let me show you your rooms.” She murmured all at once.

 

Bag End ran down the hill side deep in the earth in many, different galleries. It was built to host many friends an relatives.

So, it wasn’t difficult to arrange comfortable bedrooms for the dwarves. Each room had two or more bed and she even managed to find a chamber with a bed large enough for Gandalf.

She had settled Thorin in the biggest bedroom after hers. It was the chamber she had slept in during her girlhood, before moving in her parent’s bedroom.

Once every guest was settled, Bella swept tiredly to her own room, shut the door behind her and went to her bed. Hoping to fall fast asleep and find Bag End rid of dwarves in the morning. Yet sleep didn’t come.

Without knowing why, she felt guilty; the dwarves had come to her doorstep to seek her help to get back their mountain, and they were willing to go against a fire-breathing dragon!

But how could she help them, knowing she’d have to leave her own home not knowing if she’d ever see it again?

Bella closed her eyes and tried to forget the whole evening, dismissing it as bad nightmare, but images of faraway places flashed behind her eyes; ancient kingdoms, distant lands, forests, mountains and valleys, places that she always wished to visit…

All of a sudden, the thirteen sang again their song of hope, grief, sorrow, glory and love. It let her breathless with longing and love for places she had never seen and stories she had never heard.

 Thorin’s voice sang above them all, deeper and louder.

Curling her hand across her chest, she closed her eyes and her dreams and let the company of thirteen dwarves lull her to sleep.

 

 

She woke late in the morning. Her muscles stirred by the April chill.

Bella sat up on the bed and realized Bag End was silent, silent.

Stretching her arms above her head like a cat, struggling to wake, she padded through her bedroom and into the hall. Quick and silent on the balls of her feet. She swept toward the parlour on tip toe and peered through the portal “Hullo?” Bella called softly, but Bag End proved empty and the thirteen, colorful hoods were gone.

She stepped in and jumped, triumphant. The thirteen and Gandalf were gone!

Yet, her glee didn’t last long. She looked around the empty room, the sun was slanting through the thick, round windows, and dust motes danced in the sunlight like some daytime, golden fireflies. Bella shivered. Someone had left a window open and a stack of papers had blown from the table and onto the floor. Outside the Smial the morning April sun warmed the lingering chill of the night, yet, Bella was still shivering. Not for the cool air, though.

It was painful to admit, but Bag End felt different when the dwarves where there, it felt alive again. Bella remembered well how splendid it was her home before…before her mother died. The rooms were always basket in warm, golden light, and laughter of children cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents, Tooks and Bagginses alike, echoed throughout the galleries, and the air was always filled with the smell of baked goods coming from the kitchen.

Despite their vulgarity, their horrible manners and the unexpected circumstances of their visit…the dwarves filled Bag End once again with laughter and light. But the night was over and Gandalf and the thirteen were likely already out of Hobbiton and off into the blue to their mountain…and to a dragon.

She should be grateful to the Valars and to Gandalf for this brief taste of an adventure and pray for the dwarves’ success in their quest.

She sighed, closed the windows, gathered up the fallen papers and stacked them on the table…or would have done it if they were papers. Instead, what she was holding in her hands was a single tick parchment…the Contract!

Bella’s tummy gave a little flutter. She stood there, in her empty house with a contract that could seal her fate forever, a contract she decided not to sign…and yet, and yet! They left it here for her to sign, the gap under the names of the employer and the witnesser. Only waiting for her signature. . .

‘ _It will be dangerous …’_

A voice that sounded painfully like her father’s whispered softly in the back of her head.

 _‘I know…’_ She whispered back.

_‘what will become of you if you go?’_

It seemed like Bungo’s concern for his wayward daughter lingered far beyond his grave. It seemed oddly familiar and comforting in some way.

_‘what will become of me if I stay?’_

Bella asked firmly, soothing her Father’s memory.

 _‘what are you waiting for, then?’_ Belladonna Took’s soft voice challenged her.

And now, even after so many years, they all would tell you that Belladonna Baggins was smiling when she signed away her life.

 

* * *

 

 

Balin son of Fundin had rode briskly in his youth, as a warrior, now he had stiff knees and could not quite tolerate the vivacity of the small ponies, completely different from the sturdy rams of the mountains.

The Company of thirteen dwarves and a wizard left the Hobbit-hole without a hobbit.

The Company had begun their quest without a Burglar and with a dreaded number as bad luck.

“I DON’T LIKE THIS!”muttered Oín, shooking his head in disdain, “I DON’T LIKE THIS AT ALL!”

“The lass refused to sign the contract, brother,” Glóin reminded him, “there nothing ye can do about it.”

“WE CANNAE NUMBER THIRTEEN, IT’S BAD LUCK!”

“I don’t believe in luck,” Thorin said a he mounted on his pony, “We make our own luck.”

Old as he was and with all the hard-worn wisdom he had earned, Balin did not believed in luck, omens and foretells. . . And yet, he had to admit to himself that it was an ill start to their journey to leave the Shire without a Burglar.

The Tharkun had been adamant: a Hobbit was the only being in Middle-Earth suited for the task, but Miss Baggins was a soft, kind lass not meant to dwell near dragons.

Balin felt relieved that she didn’t signed the contract. Relieved and disappointed at the same time.

He shot a glance at his king as he mounted his pony with little difficulty. He knew Thorin felt the same way, though he would never admit it.

The wizard, on the other hand, was not so pliable.

“leave the contract for her to sign!” the wizard insisted as they headed out the Hobbit-hole. “and let us ride to a slow pace, so it will be easier for her to find us.”

Nori raised an eyebrow, “are you so sure? Wanna bet about it?” he demanded defiantly, “ten gold pieces says your Burglar doesn’t show up!”

“I’m on it!” Bofur joined.

“Me too!” called Glóin.

“Me Three!” said Dori.

Gandalfs eyes gleamed, “wager on my Burglar? Why not! Ten pieces say she’ll join us before the morning is over.”

“I’M ON IT AS WELL! TEN GOLD PIECES ON THE LASSIE!” cried Óin suddenly, causing the other dwarves to gasp in surprise.

Glóin shook his head in disapproval, “Ah, ye’ll lose the wager, brother!”

Balin said nothing, but did as the Wizard ssai and left the contract for Miss Baggins to sign. . . It did not hurt to hope. Either they gained a Burglar or left without one.

The sun had not yet risen in the east when the Company rode down the hill in a long column, yet, it seemed that the Shire was awake for hours.

The sweet, rolling hills glimmered wetly with morning dew, emerald, under the rising sun. a soft wind was blowing from north, carrying the earthy scent of the forests with it. Colourful blooms blossomed crimson, blue, yellow and purple, gracing the heads of the hills like splendid flowery crowns.

Silver mist of the morning was covering the fields like a cloak that kept the earth warm and soft against the coolness of the night. It was a gentle land, the shire, even the wildness of the woods and the fallow fields beyond bowed to the well-tended, kind, halfling land.

“Wealth is measured as much in water, earth and sun as in gold,” Thorin said quietly as he observed the farmers in the fields from his saddle. He stared at the sweet, rolling hills of the Shire almost longingly, “This place is wealthy.”

Balin hummed in approvation, “yes, in earth, water, sun and in halflings too! It is said that Hobbits are fond of things that grow.”

“A little too much,” Dwalin commented from his saddle, “look how many children there are here! These halflings are like rabbits.”

Balin looked over the market the Company rode through, there were so many children! Wee babes in tow, toddlers that had just learned to walk and young, scrawny laddies and lassies with tangled, dark curls and furry, large toes.

Balin observed them greedily but in his mind, no doubt they must have been a startling sight to the plain, quiet Shire-folks. They were thirteen in the party, not counting Gandalf, and sixteen ponies.

The pointy-eared halflings watched the Company coming down the hill with startled, wide dark eyes, the children hiding behind their mother’s skirts. Some of them begun to murmur quietly amongst each other, but otherwise voiced no complaint towards them. If the Hobbits had anything to say about a Company of thirteen dwarves crossing their lands they kept quiet about it.

Yet, the murmurs grew louder as the Grey Wizarding approached on his horse with his long staff and his pointy hat.

The Hobbits begun to point their fingers as he passed and whispered ‘Gandalf’ and ‘spooky old wizard’

One of them was brave enough to step out the crowd and walk toward the column. He was a rather old hobbit with faded brown curls going silver, he had a bright yellow jacket and dark green gloves, he was carrying gardening tools on his shoulders.

“Mister Gandalf!” the Hobbit exclaimed surprised, “Me lad told the truth after all! You came back.” He said gesturing toward a younger hobbit behind him, half hidden in the crowd. The lad was taller then anyone at the marked and rather large too. He had red cheeks, and small blue eyes the glanced down at his furry feet.

Gandalf pulled up in front of the old Hobbit, “Good morning, Master Gamgee, yes I’m back, but alas, I’m leaving as we speak.”

The old hobbit Glanced up at the hill the company came down, “You come down Bagshot Row. . .” he peered at the dwarves, “if I may ask, why were you Bag End bound?”

Dwalin growled down at him “Why do you care?”

The hobbit man raised his hands, startled by Dwalin’s rumbling tone. “Mercy! Your business belongs to you, sir. My only concern is for the missus that lives up that hill. You see that lass is alone, parentless and unwed and you are not from these parts. . .”

Balin reached out and put a grounding hand upon his brother’s shoulders,“Oh? Are you Miss Baggins’s kin, Master Hobbit?” he asked the old hobbit.

The halfling turned gratefully toward the less menacing dwarf,“Oh, sweet green lady, no! I ‘m just her Gaffer, the lass is my boss. She is the child of my late Master, but I care for her like she’s ma’ own, you see-“

“Bag End? Dwarves?!” a petulant, high voice cut from the crowd. Standing alongside the path, there was a young woman, no older than Miss Baggins, but that’s was where the resemblance ended; the hobbit woman was smaller and thinner, she had black coal curls and small black eyes like a mouse’s, she wore a deep purple dress with yellow ribbons that left her ankles bare, and matching parasol that she carried closed in one hand. An expression of pure distaste was painted on her face.

She regarded the dwarves with contempt, “What is this lot doing in the Shire? What is their business in Bag End” she demanded, scorned.

The old hobbit scowled as he saw her approach, “Quiet lass!” he warned the young woman, “You ruffian thrash have no right to be asking about Bag End!”

She scowled ever darker and shot a suspicious look at the dwarves, “if Bella Baggins thinks she can scare me, she is mighty wrong! I don’t know what are your business in Bag End, dwarves,” she spoke the word like a curse, “but I’m warning you, do not trust Bella Baggins! That girl is a wanton witch! She tried to steal away my intended from me!”

The big lad with the red cheeks raised his eyes and spoke up, “the pot that calls the kettle black! Everyone in the Shire knows that the Sackville-Bagginses are after Miss Bella’s money, Lobelia! And she doesn’t care for Otho!”

Many Hobbits turned to stare and the woman’s face became quite red, “how dare you use that tone with me, Gamgee!? Everyone in the Shire knows that my sweet, soon-to-be cousin is cracking and proud of it,” she casted a wicked, thin-lipped smile at the dwarves, “look for yourself, the day after she tried to seduce my betrothed, thirteen dwarves are caught coming down Bag End and that spooky, old wizard too! How indecent! How scandalous!”

Balin heard Bifur murmur something in Kuzdhul behind him and Bofur and Nori were laughing under their breath at the scene before them.

Balin, on the other hand thought that there was nothing humorous in that situation; apparently it was an odd sight for the Shirelings: thirteen strangers, leaving the house of a respectable, unwed, young lass first thing in the morning. He frowned, hoping that their visit to Miss Baggins had not caused a scandal.

Balin looked up at Gandalf, searching confirmation in his eyes, but the wizard was more intent in listening to the three hobbits’s quarrel with frowning, gleaming eyes.

It was clear that the woman held a grudge with their almost Burglar, a grudge over a hobbit man, apparently – grudges between women were often because of a man, but for the little time he had known her, he highly doubted Miss Baggins would be the kind of lass to go about seducing other women’s betrothed – the two other Hobbits on the other hand seemed quite devoted to Miss Baggins and clearly believed this woman’s accusation to be false.

“The only scandalous behaviors around here are yours, Miss!” the old hobbit said red in the face, “Miss Bella Baggins is the most respectable lass in the Shire, you ain’t fit to comb the fur on her toes, Lobelia Bracegirdle! Now, shoo! Get away from here!” the old hobbit said waving a hand as to sent on the run a stray alley-cat.

At that last slight the Hobbit woman went pale in indignation and started to take her parasol on the two poor Hobbits who were defending their Master.

It was then when Gandalf decided they had witnessed enough of the scene and urged the column on.

Once the column was well away from the market, Bofur gave a long, low whistle, “Hobbit women, can’t convince them to sign a contract, can’t keep ‘em from stealing your betrothed!”

The miner jested, causing several in the column to laugh.

“You all saw that for yourself!” Dori declared aloud as the company rode through the woods on the borders of the Shire, where the fields gave way to wildness and tall bushes, and the noises of the town market was well behind them.

“Miss Baggins can’t be trusted! As soon as we leave her house we found a young, distressed woman declaring that the lass had seduced her betrothed, she also called her a wanton witch! Thank Mahal she didn’t signed the contract, it wouldn’t be fit to travel with such a bad lot.”

Balin frowned, “the words of that hobbit woman are not to be taken seriously, nor should we all be too anxious to judge. Remember that Miss Baggins not only hosted us for supper but also let us stay under her hill for the night, we ought to know better than to repay her kindness with poor taste assumption based on the words of a stranger.”

Many in the column grunted in assent, but the pompous tailor wasn’t satisfied.

“Well, anyway it is unlikely that the Hobbit is going to join us, now. We are almost outside this halfling land. I said it. Didn’t I said it? Coming here was a waste of time!”

“That’s true enough.” Glóin agreed.

“Ridiculous notion. Use a hobbit? A halfling?” Dori went on, “whose idea was it, anyway?”

Balin shot a glance at Thorin at the head of the column, he never once looked back, Balin knew that although he was against the idea of Miss Baggins to join the Company, but he also considered their trip to the Shire a failure and without a Burglar, they needed to come up with another plan to retrieve the Arkenstone.

The old advisor knew that to his king the matter was closed the instant they closed the green, round door of the Hobbit-hole behind them, that morning.

Now, is mind was set to a different goal; the mountain. When Thorin set his mind on something, there was no changing it.

Balin sighed and shifted uncomfortably on his saddle. On one thing Dori was right: the Hobbit was not going to join them. The old advisor squared his shoulders and kept his eyes on the road ahead.

“Wait!” a faint voice suddenly called.

Did he heard correctly? Balin pulled up the reins and turned on his saddle to glance down the road when they came from; no one to be seen.

Could it be. . .

No. The old warrior shook his head and set his heels on the pony. He was not as deaf as Óin but he was becoming a lunatic as poor Bifur. Old age was Pulling cruel jests on his mind. Now he was imaging voices, no less!

“WAIT!” The voice called again, louder and closer. Balin pulled up his reins again and froze. ‘ _this time for sure!’_

In front of him, Gandalf pulled up his own mount and turned on his saddle. The whole company stopped their pace and glanced toward the voice, and there she was.

“I’VE SIGNED IT!” Miss Baggins ran to them weaving the tick parchment of the contract in one hand, she was flushed and breathless from the run, her thick, red-gold curls tousled in the wind… Balin blinked and saw her wearing baggy clothes similar to the ones he had seen on Hobbits men, she also carried a big, leather bag-pack upon her shoulder. The thing was almost as big as her, yet her steps were weightless upon the soft grass.

She padded to the legs of Balin’s pony, the old advisor bent on his saddle and took the contract from the halfling’s fingers, he put his round, thin eyeglasses and examined the parchment, trying not to burst into smiles.

”Mmm…everything appears to be in order.” He folded the contract a gave it back to the Hobbit, “Welcome, Miss Baggins…to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield!”

The dwarves huffed out breathless laughs of surprise, and approval. Balin glanced up in Thorin’s direction and witnessed a startling sight; Thorin sat on his saddle, blinking at the sight of the Hobbit Speechless, jaw sealed, flexed madly, otherwise his mouth would hang open in astonishment, Balin knew.

He almost wanted to laugh. Few things surprised his stubborn king lately and he was sure Thorin didn’t saw it coming.

He shot him a knowing smile, Thorin furrowed his brow and shook his head in surrender, “Give her a pony.”he rumbled.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Bella turned her head toward Thorin, “No, no, no, that-that won’t be necessary, thank you!” she said hurriedly still dizzy from the haste of her decision.

She brushed away her tousled locks from her eyes and began to walk along-side the ponies, her pack heavy on her shoulders.

“I ‘m sure I can keep up on foot, I’ve done my fair share on walking holidays, y’know? Even got as far as Frogmorton once…oh?”

Was all she had time to say as two strong arms grabbed her from her pack at each side and lifted her off the ground as easily as if she was a doll.

“There you go, Miss Boggins.” The dark-haired lad said at her right. Him and his blond brother set her on a saddle and underneath there was a snorting, spirited pony with a blonde mane. She stiffened and gripped at the saddle firmly, startled.

The two brothers rode at both of her sides, watching her, “her name is Myrtle, and she is a good girl, I promise you.” Kíli said, grinning.

Bella was lost, “I never rode, never…”

“Take the reins and ride. Put your feet inside the stirrups. No need to run, we’ll keep a slow pace for now.” Fíli said with a gentle smile.

“And be careful to keep up, otherwise you would never heard the end of it from uncle!”Kíli said carelessly.

“Your _uncle_?!”

“Thorin, to be sure!” Fíli assured, “Who else?”Without another word, the two brothers trotted off.

Bella was gobsmacked by the notion, but she did as was told and uncertainly, slid her large feet inside the short stirrups, they fitted just right, perhaps not large enough, but it was fine. Bella grabbed the reins and held them fast in her hands. The pony snorted and kept a rhythmic, slow pace, following the other ponies in the column. Hesitantly, she reached out and patted the pony’s neck, “good lass.” She murmured to Myrtle. As if to answer, the pony bowed her head and snorted again.

Floppy-hat trotted up beside her, “Aw, it looks like you two lasses, are gettin’ along pretty fine, already.” He said smiling. “Glad to see you ‘round, lassie. What made ya change your mind?”

Bella smiled up at him, mischievous, “Oh, dear, why? You doubted of your persuasive manners, perhaps?”

Bofur rubbed one hand on the back of his neck and ducked his head, almost shyly. He sweept his gaze down her body and snorted, “By my beard, lass! What in Mahal’s name are you wearing?” he laughed softly.

Small wonder; she was clad in a white, tunic, a bright green waistcoat, and wearing her father’s favourite jacket, the red one. She put on large, old brown trousers hacked off just above her knees. If not for her long curls and her generous curves, she would pass for a respectable Hobbit lad.

She had packed quickly, once she signed up the contract, and made a wise choice, “I am afraid I don’t have clothes fit for this kind of quest, “She pinched one sleeve of the large red jacket she was wearing, ”those were my father’s clothes.” She explained. “you don’t go on adventures in skirts and frilly frocks” she explained.

“Ah…I see…” his gaze trailed over her body once more, as they rode side by side. This time much more like the way he used when she met him, the night before.

He gave her an insolent smirk. “I suppose you haven’t packed your lovely bedgown with your things, mmm, lassie?” he asked, slyly.

Bella forced herself not to blush “No. I haven’t.” She said smoothly.

Bofur sighed. “Ah, a pity.” He said sorrowful, “Aw, don’t look at me like that, sweetheart, you are part of the company, now. Ya better get used to that kind of talkin,’ especially from Nori…yes, he is a scoundrel, that one, better keep away from him. Stick with us instead, lass.”

He gestured behind him, toward Bifur and Bombur, “the Ur family officially welcomes you in the company, and, oh! Try not to fall off ya saddle, we have a long ride ahead of us, until sundown.”

“Until sundown?” she repeated, bewildered.

“Yes, the company doesn’t stop before nightfall. Don’t make that face, those are the rules, if you don’t like ‘em…” he nodded toward where Master Oakenshield was riding, at the head of the column, he grimaced, “…ya know to whom you can go complainin.’ “

Bella reddened, but before she could reply, Bofur put his heels on the sides of his pony and trotted off. Slowly, she noticed that all the dwarves surpassed her and soon she was left behind, at the bottom of the column.

Nervously Bella gathered up the reins tightly in her hands. And now?

The only thing she knew about riding came from the books about the famous riders of Rohan.

Suddenly the pony gave a shake and fasted the pace, Bella startled and gripped tightly at the reins.

“Sticklebacks! Who ah there, you big, strange-looking dog, don’t let me fall!”

As if to mock her, the mare snorted almost amused.

“Hey, what are you laughing at, huh?”she asked the pony, “I never rode a pony and I’m sure you never had a hobbit like me on your back, lass. So, I propose to settle this as civilized girls would do; you don’t throw me off your back and in return I promise not to beat you, deal?”

Myrtle seemed to understand and snorted again, nodding her long neck. Following Bofur example, timidly Bella gave her mount the lightest touch with her heels. The pony fastened her pace and soon reached her companions. Gandalf was waiting for her, eyes gleaming in the sunlight, and a large smile on his face.

“I am glad to see that you remained a quick learner, dear.” He said softly from his huge horse.

Bella moved to a trot and rode up at his side, “well, surely I am not going to ride as good as a Rohirrim by the end of the day.” She replied keeping her eyes on the road.

Gandalf snorted, amused.

“Gandalf…I…”

He turned looked down from his saddle, a silver, bushy eyebrow arched under his pointy hat. “Yes, my dear?” he said promptly.

“Did she ever went on an adventure like this? My mother, I mean.

The wizard sighed, “No. Not quite like this, no. Your path, my dear Bella is a far more dangerous one than your mother ever took.”

“I’ll never be like her, I know it.”

He gave her a look, “No, you’ll never be like her. . . Because you are going to be like you.”

Bella smiled, “Gandalf.”

“Yes, dear?”

“I am happy we met again.”

Gandalf smiled warmly, “me too, my dear lass, me too.” He looked at her, serious. “and…I am so sorry for your loss. I knew about your mother, but…”

“Yes.” She said, she didn’t need to ask what Gandalf was talking about, “fourteen years ago. The illness took him but I was holding his hand when it happened. He didn’t suffer… he was at peace.” Bella said hoarsely.

Gandalf regarded her seriously “Bungo Baggins was a good Hobbit, I remember him fondly.”

Bella smiled up at him, grateful. “Thank you. It is fine, he rests next to mother.”

Suddenly a little sack of coins went flying between them. Grey-bearded Oin grabbed it from the air, with a rumbling laugh. Bella noticed many more sacks being throw at the deaf dwarf’s direction.

“what’s that about?” she asked Gandalf.

“Oh, they took wages…on whether or not you’ll turn up! The most of them bet you wouldn’t.”

Bella gave him a searching look, “And what did you think?” she asked him expectantly.

As if to answer to that, a sack of coins went flying in Gandalf’s direction, the grey wizard grabbed it, quick as a cat. He laughed, “My dear lass, I never doubted you for a second.”

She glanced at the head of the column, where Thorin was riding, followed by Dwalin and Balin. “Oh? Even if the company could not guarantee my safety, nor they will take any responsibility toward my fate?”

The wizard shot her a surprised look, “So, you heard?”

Bella gave him a rueful smile, “Wasn’t you the one who said that hobbits have light, quick feet and sharp ears?”

He only stared at her.

Bella waved a hand, “It doesn’t matter,” she said, “you warned me about the consequences. I came on my own free will, it was my choice.” She said firmly, even if deep inside her she trembled.

“Then I hope you will never have to regret this important decision my lass.” He said serious, but not ungentle.

“You’ll have to manage without the good comforts of home and many other things, Bella Baggins, before we reach our journey’s end. You were born to the rolling hills and little rivers of the Shire…”

The grey wizard’s gleaming blue eyes set into hers, “…but home is now behind you, the world is ahead.”

She sneezed suddenly, “Sticklebacks! Oh, it’s horse hair, I’m having a reaction,” Bella dug into her pockets but both proved empty, “Gandalf, I suppose it’s too late to go back now?”

Gandalf gave her a searching look, do you regret you decision already, Miss Baggins?”

“Oh,well. . . It’s just. . . I forgot my handkerchief.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor changes of the original chapter :)
> 
> I have decided to narrate Balin's POV instead of Thorin’s from now on, he's my favorite dwarf and the closest to both Bilbo and Thorin in the movies, so it will be interesting to see how the relationship between the king and his burglar will grow through his eyes.
> 
> As always thank you all for your support and hope you like the chapter :)
> 
> If you have any questions, or just want to chat, feel free to comment or review <3
> 
> See ya, darlings!


	5. Into the blue

“Athelas!” Bella cried cheerfully, bouncing on her saddle.

“Bless you.” Bofur replied, “Still tender to horse hair?” he smiled.

Bella slapped him lightly on the shoulder as she rode beside him, “silly! I meant the plant, look!” she pointed a finger at the deep green-leafed herb with tiny white star-blossoms that was growing upon the rocky edge at the sides of the road.

Bofur followed her pointed finger and shrugged, “it looks like simple weed to me.”

“No, it’s so much more!” Bella insisted, “it has healing properties and it can cure almost all kinds of illness.”

Ori timidly turned on his saddle to look at her, “it is also very useful to treat the wounds and to calm minds.” He said softly.

“Right! Well spotted, Ori!” she complimented. It would give the smart lad some pride and Yavanna only knew how badly the shy dwarf needed it.

Óin’s trumpet was fast in his ear, “KINGSFOIL! IT WOULDN’T HURT TO GET SOME LEAVES!” the deaf healer wheeled his pony about and came upon the plant to cut some of its leaves with a small knife.

“Most Hobbits thinks it’s just useless weed and give it to the pigs,” Bella went on for all the Company to hear, “but they don’t know the rangers of the north used it for centuries, and the _Númenóreans_ before them. And the elves before them, and-“

“Before I hit you with my axe, halfling, stop talking!” Dwalin barked at the head of the column.

Bella flushed in indignation but kept quiet all the same. One of these days he would really hit her with his axe.

“If hobbits thinks it’s just a useless weed, why do you know about it?” Fíli the blond prince wanted to know.

Bella smiled, “Well, I-“

“-You read it in a book!” Bofur, Fíli and Kíli finished in unison.

The Company was a fortnight on the road and away from everything Bella had ever known. They crossed the rolling hills of the Shire, forded the sweet rivers into the fields and the farms of Bree-land, until the green stretched into inmese forests where the leaves of giant trees made a cloak of canopy above their heads.

‘Small’ could definitely be the proper word applied to the Shire, everything there was small, and green, and small. The houses, the farms, the fields, the people, even the trees. Out there everything was bigger, it made Bella feel little in a vast world.

“Smart lad,” Bofur said, “and pretty too. Someone might mistake you for a lass.”

Fíli and Kíli burst into laughter and Bella slapped Floppy-hat’s shoulder again. Ever since she showed up wearing her father’s fine green weistcoat and red jacket Bofur begun to joke about it, naming her often ‘lad’ or ‘laddie’. The others soon picked it up and begun to call her ‘Master Baggins’ the same title of her late father. It made her feel strange, but it was better than to be called ‘laddie.’

All of a sudden Myrtle snorted and gave a shake of her long neck. Bella startled on saddle and tried to soothe the filly, petting her blonde mane, “Whoa, easy girl!”

“You’re pulling on the reins, give the pony her head.” Kíli suggested.

Bella took a deep breath and did as he said. Compared to her, Fíli and Kíli were fluid _Rohirrim_.

“Leave some slack. Left, right. . . “ Fíli told her, “Get it? Now hold your heels down.”

“You’ve been on saddle for two weeks, now. You should’ve at least learned the basics.” The dark-haired prince chided.

Bofur snorted, “Lassie wouldn’t learn in two years,” he mocked, “she’s too dainty to sit on a pony, and she starts to sneeze every time she gets near ‘em. “

Bella blew a wayward lock away from her face, “you’ll see! I’ll become the best rider around” she declared hot with indignation, “just you wait! ”

Fíli snorted, “not if you don’t hold your reins properly – don’t slouch – you call this riding?”

Bella lowered her reins, straightened her spine and adjusted her heels, “Well, I’m on saddle, am I not?” to make her point, then she said, “What else should I do, kick?”Bella had only meant it as a joke, but put her heels too hard on the pony’s sides and Myrtle gave a startled neigh, taking off running.

Bella could do nothing but hold onto the reins as Myrtle fastened her trot to a gallop and flew through the other ponies. She caught a glimpse of Fíli and Kíli’s startled faces as they moved their ponies out of the way. Soon, she reached the head of the column where Thorin, Balin, Dwalin and Gandalf were riding. “Incooominggg!!!” she shouted as Myrtle dashed through. She heard them behind her give curses and shouts, commanding her to come back, but she could not.

Before she could realize it, her pony had led her to an open field, a vast plain of grass stretching before her eyes. Myrtle raised her ears and fastened her gallop. Bella yelped and tightened her legs on the pony’s sides, praying Yavanna and all the Valars not to let her fall. She wasn’t even a fair rider and always bounced and wobbled upon her saddle.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of distant pounding of galloping hooves. Bella glanced back over her shoulder and saw Thorin Oakenshield on his big brown mare hard on her heels and gaining. She knew her run was over when he rode up beside her, leaning forward on his saddle, rousing his mare to a faster pace to reach her. His blue eyes burning, his face intent. Jaw sealed, he reached out one hand to grab her bridle... When, all of a sudden, Myrtle bucked and lowered her ears, irritated by the other pony’s closeness and began to kick the air. Bella bounced and yelped, grabbing the filly’s mane to keep from falling. One of the pony’s kick sent Thorin’s mare prancing, putting an end to his chasing. The dwarf king cursed and tightened his hold on his reins.

Bella turned her head as her wayward pony swung wide around a yew tree. The fields were behind her and they were venturing deep into the forest. Leaves flurried and flew underneath Myrtle’s hooves as she galloped hard and fast, never breaking the stride. Bella ducked on her saddle to avoid the low branches of the trees. A quick peek behind her and the forest closed at her passage, swallowing her in tall grasses, supple bushes and giant trees. When Bella felt like there was no end to their run, Myrtle finally slowed her pace to a trot until she quietened to an halt. The filly was lathered and flagging, her big belly was rising and falling in a frantic rhythm.

Bella was frozen on her saddle, her body was stretched like an harp-string. She stiffly dismounted and went stumbling on the ground, landing on her bottom with a ‘huff’. Dizzy, she ran a hand through her tousled locks, her fingers got tangled in the messy nest and when she distangled them, leaves and tiny seeds fell down her hair. She was breathless, sweaty, her cheeks were burning and her heart was beating like a drum in her chest. Trembling she stood, dusted her trousers, and rubbed her bottom. It hurt a little where her saddle sores had been. She looked around her, the forest had swallowed her whole. Bella tried to look in the direction where she came from... Or was it the other direction?

She was lost.

The Hobbit kicked a rock with impotent rage. It went rolling into the bushes. Lost and miserable, she tried to think of something bad enough to say, “Sticklebacks!” She cried at last, but felt no better. turning back toward her pony, Bella gave a very unlady-like groan, Myrtle was greezing carelessly near the bushes. Evidently pleased with herself.

“That’s all your fault, you know that?! ” she shouted at the small horse.

Myrtle kept greezing as if she wasn’t even there.

“Oh? You are ignoring me? Well, go ahead. See if I care, you stupid horse! You are certainly not the only one in this Company! ” Bella shouted at the pony in frustration.

Myrtle only neighed softly.

“Oh, and by the way, thanks a lot for kicking Minty, how will Thorin find us now? He’ll be furious!”

Myrtle begun to snort and pull at bright yellow flowers with her horsey pink lips.

Bella groaned and looked around her, “Perhaps we could find our way back on our own?” she said to no one in particular, with her there was only her pony. “We could go back... I’m most certain we came from west, so we should go... That way? Or the other one? West. Where is West!”

Bella let herself fall on the grass with another groan, laying miserably on the ground.

And now?

She couldn’t ride back on her own, she wouldn’t know how. The wisest thing to do was to wait for the others to come and find her. They were thirteen in the Company, excluding her and Gandalf. The dwarves rode in a small column, but the column did not rode blindly. Thorin always sent his nephews ahead to scout for roads and streams and at night they all took turns to stand watch. Bella hoped for Fíli and Kíli to find her, or at least one of the Ur’s, or Gandalf at best. Everyone, really, as long as it wasn’t Thorin. She would never hear the end of it from the stern dwarf King for delaying their ride. She didn’t wanted to give him the satisfaction to doubt her more. And certainly the Company didn’t need any further encouragement to consider her a burden... If they’d find her at all.

Bella thought the Company left the Shire in good spirits after she signed the contract. But, somehow it seemed that her decision had sombered them. Suddenly the dwarves were no more the loud and festive fellows of the unexpected party back in Bag End. Since they had gotten on the road a veil of seriousness had fell upon the company and Bella felt like an unwelcome shadow amongst them.

It had not been easy.

The first night they had built camp in a clearing surrounded by bushes and Bella had felt all sore and stiff from her first ride. The dwarves gathered around the campfire drinking and laughing in that harsh guttural language of theirs.

So, Bella was left to sup with Gandalf and with the Ur family, who seemed to be most jovial of the lot. The Grey Wizard always sat by himself smoking quietly, his gleaming eyes set into the horizon, lost in his own thoughts. That left only the Ur’s ; Bombur had a very red and jovial face, always a little breathless from the day’s ride. He didn’t really talked much but cooked deftly and everyone liked him. His family seemed to shelter and protect him like a petted child. Bifur was somehow protected as well; he looked like a shaggy hollow, his eyes were wide and stark grey and that nasty axe on his head sent shivers down Bella’s spine. The others kept their distance. He often sat by himself with his spear placed upon his lap, staring into the trees. She remembered what Óin had told her about Bifur’s wound.

_‘DEAD?! NO. ONLY BETWEEN HIS EARS …’_

That axe should have killed him, Bella reflected. Yet the poor fellow was still standing, for better or for worse. Whichever way, the unfortunate dwarf was not so talkative, so that closed up the circle to Bofur.

“How did Bifur got that nasty wound?” she had asked Floppy-hat that first night.

Bofur was leaning against a rock, smoking his pipe with his hat placed over his eyes. He stuck a thumb inside it and raised it to look up at her, “I’m quite sure it was the axe on his head.”

Bella blew a lock out of her face, huffing, “you know what I mean.”

Bofur shrugged, “A battle, lassie. Long, long time ago,” he tapped his pipe on his lips, “I don’t even remember how he was before the axe.”

Bella bit her lip. It hurt to speak of it, she realized. “Does he feel any pain? ” she asked carefully.

Bofur seemed surprised she had spoke of it, “I – I don’t think he feels anything, lassie.” That made her sad. In Bofur’s voice there was sadness too. “whenever we go, there’s nothing he recognize or recall, not a face or a place... “

Bella bit her lip again. She didn’t wanted to push him, “Are you used to travel often?” she asked, changing the subject.

The dwarf shrugged, “One takes work where one could find it. My luck, there are plenty of mines in the Blue Mountains.”

“I thought you were a toy-maker,” Bella had noticed the carved toys and instruments he and Bifur carried on their saddle.

“I am if the work is needed,” Bofur replied, “but yes, carving crafts is often required if it is well done.”

“And if I may ask, if the job was necessary why did you join the company?”

Bofur smiled beneath his mustache, “For love, why else?”

Bella tilted her head to one side, “love?”

“Aye lass, love of gold. Unlike all the others, my family and I were not born royal, but I volunteered for this quest as soon as Thorin called all the same. Y’know? Only a little of all the gold in that mountain would do us good for a lifetime and we are promised a part of treasure each!” he gave a long whistle, “I’ll never have to come back into a mine for the rest of my life,” he eyed her a moment, “you’ll have a share of the treasure as well, lass. Our king may be sulky , but he’s not to forget those loyal to him. He’ll get you a large piece of cake for your service as a burglar.”

Bella wiggled her nose. She was a little disappointed his answer was gold. Although, she felt for the miner and hoped he’d get the wealth he wanted, but the song the dwarves sang in her parlor just the night before was full of longing and love of home, so powerful that had driven even a Baggins out of her door.

“And to take back your home, surely?” she asked expectantly.

Bofur shrugged again, “Aye lass, but it is a home I never knew, only few of us did. My family came from a different clan of dwarves, Erebor it’s not our kingdom.”

“Oh.” Bella did not know how to respond to that.

Bofur smiled and gave her a Leer, “and you, lass? How about your home? That fancy Hobbit-hole with a full pantry and empty galleries. How come a young hobbit lass leaves a soft nest like that? Not for the pleasures of the company of those louts, I know.”

She glanced up and met Bofur’s eyes, “Why? For love.” She answered.

Bofur snorted, “Love?”

She dimpled in a vague smile, “Love for adventure.”

That first night – first of many to come – she lay upon her thin blanket on the hard ground instead of her soft bed in Bag End. It felt so uncomfortable and sleep came hard for her, that night. Yet, dawn crept quickly and with it Bofur, shaking her by her shoulder, telling her it was her turn to stand watch.

The second day they broke their fast with boiled eggs and cold porridge before they mounted on saddle again, “What about breakfast?” Bella asked as she climbed gingerly on saddle.

All the thirteen dwarves turned to stare. Red-bearded Glóin frowned, “You just had your breakfast, lass.” He told her with a rather irritated tone.

Bella blinked, “yes. . . That was the first breakfast. What about second breakfast?”

All the thirteen dwarves frowned , perplexed.

Fíli and Kíli looked at each other, “What do you mean, Miss _Boggins_?” Kíli wanted to know.

Bella inclined her head, “You... You mean you don’t know?”

The dwarves shook their heads.

“Well... What about elevensies?”

The dwarves looked at each other, clearly confused.

“lunch?” she asked tentatively.

The Thirteen kept looking at her like she was mad.

“Afternoon tea? What about dinner and supper? You must know about dinner and supper!”

The dwarves simply muttered something to each other and ignored her.

“Move on!” Thorin Oakenshield urged the others as he passed right in front of her with his brown mare. He didn’t even glanced at her. And Bella was left to ride at the bottom of the column amongst the Ur’s, feeling silly.

Days followed nights and nights followed days. Bouncing on her saddle Bella was often left at the end of the column, struggling with her pony. She had been wary around the animal at first, riding on horseback was just too extravagant even for her.

Hobbits were not riders and coming to her saddle, straddling her pony every morning in such an indecent position had Bella reluctantly think of what her flock of matrons, aunts and cousins would do if they could see her now: they’d probably need all their smelling salts. In truth, Bella wasn’t quite sure she enjoyed riding : the first day her bottom and back felt all sore and stiff, the second day the soreness became a proper pain. The rough leather reins blistered her hands and soon even her awful saddle sores complained of awful saddle sores.

Riding was an ordeal, but it might have been endurable if the dwarves showed a little bit of sympathy towards her. During their day’s ride they dwarves ignored her. Bella used all of her manners and courtesies and often tried to share a chat around the campfire but not to avail. The dwarves always had stories to share amongst themselves only they didn’t wanted to share them with the Hobbit. Some spoke to her only to order her to help with the ponies and to chide her if she fell too far behind in the column. Fíli and Kíli taught her to sit on saddle, Óin offered her a smelly jar of ointments for her blisters and her saddle sores and shy Ori tried timidly to exchange a word with her from time to time, but the only one who truly talked to her – excluding Gandalf - was Bofur. Thorin Oakenshield ignored her as well, hardly even spared her a glance, the others seemed to follow suit on behalf of their leader.

Despite that, she was curious toward the dwarf king. He seemed to take Form out of the very pages of the books of adventures and heroes she used to love when she was a child. But, he was also a mystery as well. And there was that great deal about that branch he loved carry around. That thing would clank and rattle, clank and rattle, clank and rattle, up and down the hills as they rode. Bella had wondered what was its purpose; she did not know nothing about dwarves, but she did took notice of how they loved food and drinking. Was that branch some sort of a cheese platter perchance? She hadn’t the faintest idea. Honestly, she didn’t know why these dwarves did anything.

She had always thought traveling with warriors and living adventures would be as romantic as it was in her books.

Certainly there was nothing romantic about dwarves. To her, traveling with the company meant groans, curses and smells. After a few days under the sun the dwarves begun to stink terribly. Bella herself felt as filthy as them. During their rides they often came upon streams and ponds, yet she did not dare. It was hard enough to find a perfect spot in the bushes to make her water in the limits of privacy and modesty, avoiding some of the dwarves to walk in on her. She wouldn’t take a risk for a bath.

And, no matter how courteous, polite or kind she might have been – to be sure, she needed all her manners and charms to try and make conversations with the dwarves – yet, they would not speak to her longer than it was necessary.

One night, Bella finally gathered up the courage to reveal her concerns to Gandalf, but the Wizard had only smiled, “Patience, my dear girl,” he told her, “you’ll need as much time to get used to them as they to you, trust me.”

Trust. Patience. Bella liked to believe she had both.

Sometimes, when she stood watch on her own or she lay on her blanket with only her backpack as a pillow, Bella would gaze up at the stars and wonder if she had made the right decision, signing that contract. She would tell herself that she was only homesick. In truth, she would have gladly changed the hard ground for her soft bed, the quick-cooked stews for her seven meals per day and her full pantry. Every morning she woke up and for a drowsy moment she was back in Bag End, for a drowsy moment she was Bella Baggins again. In times like these she quickly shook her head, annoyed with herself. The stars above were the same stars she saw from the bench in her porch, back home, and home was behind her, the world was ahead.

And now, she lay miserably on the ground, lost in the forest. Her runaway pony, greezing carelessly in the bushes. The May sunshine throwing thick, dark, crescent shadows of the leaves above them. Waiting felt like an eternity, the Company should have found her by now. The more time passed, the more Thorin’s fury would be hot. She was in for it now.

Near the bushes Myrtle snorted softly.

Bella turned her head toward the pony, “Oh, do shut up, Myrtle!” she snapped angrily, “Or I’ll whip you!” she didn’t really mean to beat her filly, but she was distressed and upset and dirty and sweaty and lost.

Her stomach growled softly

And... hungry?

Bella let her head fall back on the grass with a groan. She stared at the green canopy of leaves above her, blinking at the sun, suddenly noticing something. . . the tall trees above were full of apples!

Her stomach growled again at the sight, so loud Myrtle raised her hears at the noise. Bella bit her lip. She had been riding since dawn and hardly eated during all morning! Besides the run had exhausted her, she needed a snack. But the others were certainly after her, and the vigorous apple tree was taller than any tree in the Shire, and it has been years since she had climbed any tree. . .

Her stomach growled in a rumble. “Bella Baggins, you are a fat rabbit.” She told herself sighing.

Soon after, her intentions to reunite with the others were promptly forgotten and Bella found herself trying to stand on her saddle by the feet of the tree to reach one of the branches. She was balancing with difficulty, her arms spread open to keep from falling.

“That’s it, Myrtle. Now stay still.” Bella leaped from the saddle and wrapped her arms around the solid wood, then pushed herself up on the branch. She looked down, Myrtle was looking at her with her big black eyes, her ears raised to her direction.

“You stay there, “ Bella told her pony, “don’t talk to anyone.”

She climbed all the way up the highest branches, where the plumpest fruits were teasing her with their shiny, red peel. Bella shed of her jacket and assured it between two branches as if to form a nest, then, she begun picking the apples, one by one, climbing higher and higher still. She picked carefully until she came upon a apple with a worm inside it. She frowned at it for a moment, then shrugged and removed the little fellow, leaving it on its way on other fruits. She was hungry but she was not desperate.

Her mouth begun to water as she thought of all the wonderful treats she could cook and bake with all the plump apples if she was back home: delicious apple-pies, tasty apple sauces and apple jams served with warm bread. Fragrant apple tarts and fresh apple cider to sip quietly beneath the oak tree in her backyard, of Bag End...

But, she wasn’t in Bag End, she was out into the blue, in a Company of thirteen dwarves, journeying toward a mountain invaded by a fire-breathing dragon.

Bella climbed higher until she reached the peak of the tree, then, dropped on her stomach, straddled the branch and wrapped her legs around it in a tight grip. It had been easy as when she was a child. She smiled and reached out to grab one particular apple, plump, red and perfect. She had picked enough to offer a treat to the whole Company, but this one she would keep it to herself, a perfect apple...

“There you are!” a voice called suddenly from below.

Bella startled, yanking her hand away from the apple and almost losing her balance. She looked down and saw Balin and his pony at the feet of the tree next to Myrtle.

Someone had found her, at last. Bella grabbed the apple and waved it down at him, “here I am!” she shouted.

“I thought you were lost, Miss Baggins. After your little show of earlier I feared you might have fallen off your saddle and hurt yourself.”

“Well, you know the saying,” she told the old dwarf, smiling down at him, a little embarrassed, “an apple a day keeps the doctor away!”

She heard Balin give a snort, “you are going to truly need a doctor if you don’t climb down that tree before you fall, lassie!”

Bella climbed down the branches, gathered the jacket full of apples and tossed it across her back like a sack, hopped down the branch to the one beneath it and then into thin air. She heard Balin suck in a breath and then gasp when she landed lightly on her feet, like when she was a child. She dusted off her trousers and brushed away the leaves from her curly hair.

“We ought to go, lass. The others are still looking for you, they’d likely be very worried. ” he said wheeling his pony about.

Bella loaded her apples into her saddle-sacks, next to her heavy back-pack, “I highly doubt that.” She whispered bitterly to herself.

“Oh, but they are! Bofur and Bifur are following the river in fear you might have gotten there when your pony bolted and been washed away by the waters, Fíli and Kíli had been worried mad, and Thorin is still searching the forest after you. ” Balin said. He glanced at her face, “Yes, yes. I heard. I may be old but I’m not as deaf as Óin, lass.”

Bella gaped. Her mouth hanging open. She mounted back embarrassed and followed the white-bearded dwarf, riding up beside him.

He took notice of her expression and snorted, “don’t make that face, lass! I quite enjoyed the scene; watching you bouncing on saddle as your pony took the run! ” he laughed.

Bella flushed, embarrassed, “Thorin tried to grab my bridle, but Myrtle kicked Minty and sent her prancing,” she explained, “Then I found myself in the forest and I didn’t know how to go back and-“

“And then you decided That picking apples was a better idea.”Balin snorted.

Bella turned bright red and bit her lip. The old dwarf waved a hand, “Oh, don’t think I hold that against you. It is plain to see that you are only a fair rider. Dwarves are as well; we dislike horses by nature, and some seldom tolerate to be near them.”

Bella wiggled her face. She and the ponies had more things in common than she had first thought, “But you all ride anyway.”

“We’re dwarves, we... Have stubborness issues.” The white-bearded dwarf smiled.

Despite herself, Bella laughed, “I noticed!”

Balin snorted amused, “Cheeky lass. I like you.”

She smiled, though bitterly, “you are one of the few.”

“Oh, lassie. Don’t take offense, but to the lads you are only a little hobbit lass.”

Bella pouted, “Well, thanks for making that point clear.”

The old dwarf laughed, “Now, now. You are thinking it wrong. It’s not so much that you are a lass. It’s your being a soft and shortish creature with a jovial face and and fat figure the real business.”

“Oh, now I see it clear!”Bella did not know whether to take offense or laugh.

Balin laughed again but then his face went serious, “Miss Baggins, I shall talk frankly to you. You seem to be a young woman of common sense. I will not lie to you, not everyone in this company is happy you turned out.”

The blunt words startled her. It seemed as though her decision of joining the Company and signing away her life was completely worthless after all, “you... you left the contract for me to sign... “

“Aye,” the old dwarf sighed,” that I did. And if a ragtag company of thirteen dwarves employs a hobbit as their burglar, how many hopes there are to take back the mountain?” his voice was heavy.

Bella lowered her gaze to her reins and said nothing.

“The answer is... more hopes than I could have ever imagined.” The dwarf answered suddenly.

Bella raised her eyes, gobsmacked, “what?”

Balin smiled at her surprised expression, “Many, even amongst our own kin had refused Thorin’s call,” he turned toward Bella and gave her a leer, “But not you. You packed up, said farewell to your home and followed.” His voice was thready, “Long time have passed, but still I remember the sorrows of leaving my home behind. At the mercy of a dragon. I understand how hard it must had been for you.”

Bella looked up at him, uncertain, “But... the others... Thorin – “

Balin pulled up his pony and looked at her, “You are our only hope, Bella Baggins,” the old dwarf replied firmly, “Thorin and the others will have to realize it before our journey’s end.” He put his heels on his mount and started off again.

Balin spoke deadly earnest, Bella realized. She felt deeply embarrassed for how she judged these dwarves. They needed to believe that their quest was to be successful, and to trust a simple hobbit... she would’ve doubt her as well.

“What must I do?” she blurted out, “What must I do to make them trust me?”

Balin raised one, white brow and stroked his long beard, pondering, “How many apples have you picked, Miss Baggins? That could be a start.”

 

 

Later, on their ride back, they heard the pounding sounds of hooves and voices drifting through the trees.

“... Have you searched the stream?” a voice demanded. For a moment Bella thought it belonged to Thorin, but she glimpsed a blond mane through the trees, it was Fíli.

“The entire length. Twice. ” Nori answered. “She’s can’t be there. We would have found her pony, by now.”

“She could have fallen off and now lay somewhere unconscious... Or worse... “ Ori sounded worried.

“We don’t know that.” Kíli said, “she might have found her way back on her own. Perhaps she’s already reunited with Thorin and the others.”

“The Hobbit? Going back on her own?” Nori mocked, “ she’s probably fallen in a ditch somewhere.”

“Nah, lassie’s tough,” Bofur replied, “even if she did fell off her saddle she’s probably only a little dented.”

“Well, she’s stupid.” Nori spat, “if she had the senses the Valars give a rabbit she wouldn’t have kicked her pony that way.”

“You are stupid!” Bofur spat back, “Whose idea was it anyway to give her the fastest pony of the lot?”

The dwarves started arguing and Balin shot her a sympathetic look. Thinking they had heard enough, he gave a call, “Quit your fussing, lads! I found her!”

Balin and Bella emerged from the trees and the four dwarves wheeled around to face them.

Bofur beamed up as he saw her, “See? Told you lassie was alright.”

“Miss _Boggins_ , you’re alive!” Kíli called cheerfully.

Balin snorted, “Alive, still in one piece, and quite sharp in her ears. She did not miss any of your compliments, lads.”

The others took no notice of Balin’s scolding, but glanced at the apples in her saddlesack.

Bofur gave a long whistle from his saddle “Well, that’s some supplies!” he smirked beneath his mustache, “More a grocer than a burglar after all?”

Bella rolled her eyes at the remind of Thorin’s name for her, “I got lost in the woods and I couldn’t go back...” she explained.

Fíli rode up beside her, smiling, “And you were supposed to become the best rider around?” he wheeled his pony about, “Now, will you ride peacefully or do we have to lead your pony back?”

Bella shook her head, “I won’t run, if that’s what you mean.”

Yet, Bofur rode up beside her and grabbed her bridle before she could protest, “I’ll take that anyway. You sure cause a lot of trouble for someone so little.”

“I never meant to cause trouble, Myrtle bolted, that’s all.”

“Aye, tell that to Thorin when we’ll reach the others, lass.” Floppy-hat arched a brow, “And don’t think ya could get away with some apples. Bifur is beside himself with concern, and Bombur... Alright, fair enough, you migh mollify my brother with your apples, but don’t ya think I’ll be so easily fooled.” He stated, tongue in cheek.

Bella smiled, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” In truth, she was happy at least someone was concerned for her, “Nor did I meant to worry the others. I thought Gandalf would find me with one of his spells. He’s a wizard after all... “ Bella glanced around, finally noticing something, “... Where’s Gandalf?”

Nori threw his hands into the air, “That blasted wizard disappeared right after you bolted. Don’t know where he went.”

Bofur leaned in to whisper in her ear as they rode, “You better have to worry about Thorin. Nor the wizard or your apples will mollify him.”

The floppy-hatted dwarf had blinked at her in complicity and his tone was humorous, nonetheless Bella swallowed hard when she was marched to Thorin. They had reunited with the others on a rocky edge. The company had built a camp on a plain that ended sharply in a ravine.

Gandalf was there, smoking his pipe. He had smiled at her when he saw her coming, his eyes gleaming. Bella shot him a bewildered look. What was he smiling about? Honestly that wizard was more confusing than a riddle when he set his mind into it.

Óin and Glóin were building a fire, they glanced up to look at her and said nothing. Dori looked at her like she had spat in his tankard, Bombur’s eyes widened as he saw her, and his lips curled into a smile, Bifur’s eyes widened too and he gave a loud grunt. Bella smiled and waved at them, but her smile fell when she met Thorin’s Stern face. The dwarf king was sitting on a rock, polishing his sword. Dwalin was right behind him, sharpening his axe.

“You realize I had the entire Company out searching for you?” He said in a icy voice, “We lost hours of light, riding through the forest, following the trail of the pony you roused to a run.”

“I didn’t roused the pony,” she blurted, not able to look away from the sword in Thorin’s lap, “Well, I didn’t meant to. I kicked Myrtle a little too hard, I couldn’t imagine she would’ve bolted. She led me through the trees and I couldn’t stop. When finally the pony tired herself out, we where lost in the middle of the forest . It was all the same, and I couldn’t find my way back.” She watched the wet stone in Thorin’s hands sliding upon the blade, the Dwarf King moved deftly, like in all the things he did, “I couldn’t go back the way I came on account of the trees. They are all the same, and-“

“By my beard, lass, stop your gibble-gabble!” Dwalin howled. He sharpened his axe so hard and fast sparks erupted from the blade.

Bella swallowed hard, “Anyway all this to say, I couldn’t go back, riding is still difficult to me-“

“Riding,” Thorin echoed in a deep tone, “you call that riding?” the wet stone sliding on the blade of his sword made her uneasy.

Bella blew a lock of hair out of her face. Why did everyone kept saying that?

“Well, I outrode _you._ ” Escaped from her mouth before she could stop it.

Dwalin’s head shot up from his axe to her, eyebrows raised. Behind her back, she heard the sound of an indraw breath. the Company fell silent, she knew all eyes were on her back. Thorin stilled. His piercing eyes rose to met her face. The sound of the wet stone on blade still echoed in her ears. His eyes searched hers and heat rushed to her cheeks, but she stood her ground, even if with great effort. Bella felt the weigh of Thorin’s gaze as he studied her face, her figure. Finally, the dwarf king said, “Well, then why don’t you give Fíli and Kíli a hand bedding down the ponies for the night? Since you have proved your _remarkable_ riding skills today.”

 

 _‘Ah, that dwarf sure hates me!’_ Bella thought bitterly to herself as she rubbed down Buttercup’coats . She was a large, gentle mare. Bombur’s pony. Bella was tasked to tend five; Myrtle, Buttercup, the two spare ponies that carried their supplies Jam and Peanut-Butter, and Gandalf’s horse too. A nameless fellow with a white blaze on his nuzzle. Fíli and Kíli had hung a thick rope between the trees to round up the animals.

“Don’t make that face, Miss _Boggins_!” Kíli called cheerfully as he rubbed down his brown filly, Toast, “Grooming is a very important part in learning how to ride.”

“Oh, but she is already the best rider around!”Fíli went on, mocking “so, does that disqualify her or...? “

Both the brothers burst into laughter, bending forward, holding their stomach and Bella groaned, brushing the pony’s coat almost angrily, “Very funny! Very funny, indeed!”

Fíli coughed, clearing his throat, still shaking, “We’re only teasing, Miss Bella. Just for laughs, truly.”

Bella huffed, sullen, “Bofur is right, I wouldn’t learn to ride in two years.” She picked up a comb and begun to work on the pony’s mane, teasing the knots loose.

The blond prince took out the harness from Bandit, Nori’s grey colt and said, “You wouldn’t learn to ride at all if you keep putting up your tricks. You could have really hurt yourself today. You could have fallen off and break your neck!”

Bella had heard Nori’s comments of earlier. She bet many would have been happier if she had truly fallen in a ditch somewhere. She kept combing out the knots so vehemently the pony snorted, irritated. “Sorry, darling.” She mumbled in apology and teased more gently.

Fíli glanced up at her as he took in her dark expression. He cleared his throat again, “Anyway... its remarkable that you managed to stay on saddle when Myrtle bolted, and that you managed to outrun Thorin! That sure was unexpected.”

That was true enough. Thorin was the best to sit on a saddle and was the one who spent more time on pony back than all the other twelve dwarves combined. It came as a surprise to her as well that Myrtle had managed to outrun him and send Minty prancing, and that she managed not to fall. Unexpected indeed.

Fíli went on, “And he was scolding you because he was concerned. Thorin may be.... harsh, sometimes, and Stern, but he means well. He was really concerned, we all were! Kíli!” he called his younger brother, “Tell her, Kee. Tell Miss Bella what uncle said when she bolted and got lost in the woods.”

“T’was only a matter of time.” Kíli replied carelessly as he tended to the harnesses. Fíli frowned and elbowed his younger brother into the ribs. “Oi!” Kíli cried, “What was that for?”

Bella huffed out a breath. She turned away, focusing on the ponies. She knew the brothers meant well, but truly, what did she expected? The two brothers lowered their eyes and did not spoke to her again.

Bella brushed down her pony until all the dust, dirt and grime, ticks and lices were off of their coats and all on her. By the time Myrtle and the other ponies were cleaned Bella was dusty and sweaty. Sorely, she walked back to the camp, toward where she left her pack, to look for a comb and try to tame her auburn nest of curls into a braid.

When she reached the spot where the company left their packs, she came upon Nori.... Hands deep digging in her pack. That was the last drop. Silently, Bella crept behind the sneaky dwarf with the star-shaped hairdo and waited. Nori’s back was turned so he didn’t see her. She stayed there for great deal of time, observing the dwarf rummaging through her things. She was sure she had been as quiet as a cat, but Nori must have felt her behind his back for he suddenly turned toward her.

To his credit, Nori did not flynch. But his eyes widened and he gave a low whistle, “Well, the wizard was right about you, lass. You are truly silent on your feet, like an alley-cat.”

Bella put her hands on her hips, “And what exactly are you doing with your sticky paws in my bag like a rat? this alley-cat would like to know.”

Nori grimaced, “The Hobbit lass has more insolence than sense. Provoking someone you caught rummaging in your backpack ain’t clever, ” he raised his eyebrows, “it is a thief you’re questioning, you know that?”

“A bad thief,” Bella said, unimpressed, “or you wouldn’t have got caught.”

Nori snorted, “True enough.”He walked casually toward her, “there are not many people who can sneak up on me, y’know?” he smirked, flashing white, perfect teeth.

“What were you looking for?” she asked again.

“Ah... only for one of those tasty apple you brought back today.”

Bella crossed her arms against her chest, “I don’t have them, Thorin gave my saddle sack over to Bombur as a punishment.” Only the thought of it made Bella’s stomach growl in hunger. These dwarves sure loved to take food away from her.

Yet, she knew Nori wasn’t only looking for treats in her bag.

“If you are looking for something valuable, you can stop right where you are. I don’t have any.”

Nori appeared confused, clearly trying to pull off an innocent expression. “I have no idea what are ye talkin’ abou-“

“My silverware,” Bella cut in, “and the silver tray that wasn’t actually a silver tray, but just tin,” she told him, referring to the night the Company came to Bag End, when he ruined her heirloom, “don’t get me wrong I’m still upset for that tray, but you won’t find any silver in there. And if only wanted one of my apples you could have just asked.”

Sullenly, Bella moved to gather her bag, but the dwarf came behind her, slid one arm around her shoulders, “What’s your hurry, lass! Don’t ya wanna talk ‘bout it?”he pulled her close, “I’m sorry for what I said before. You are not stupid. In fact, I would say that you are rather a sharp, little lass... Bella. May I call you Bella, aye?” he did not wait for her to answer.

“You see, on one hand, I despise thievery. On the other hand... Old habits are hard to lose. And yet, for what you saw me doing, I feel guilty... “

“Guilty for what? For rummaging through my backpack or for getting caught?” Bella asked as he pulled her closer, as they were old friends.

Nori snorted, deeply amused, “Oh, both, Bella-lass. Definitely both. But... I want to make amends. Perhaps the hobbit could use a friend, aye?”

Bella looked at him, nonplussed, “you were caught with your hands in my backpack like a ruffian and now you want to be my friend?”

“Aye, ye are the Burglar, after all. Ye know the sayin’ ‘as thick as thieves!' ” he laughed.

“I won’t tell anyone what you were doing, if that’s what you meant.” Bella said, ignoring his familiarity. Who would give a fig, anyway, if she told the others that Nori was rummaging through her things.

As if he could read her mind, the star-haired dwarf said, “That’s a clever lass. And if ye are not in a position to refuse, all the better!” Nori bent down a reached out one hand, groping to search for something into her pack. He, then, handed her her comb, “Here. I’ll leave ye to ye pretty hair.” And with that, he walked off as if nothing ever happened.

As soon as Nori was out of sight, Bella cheeked her backpack to see if the thief had taken something. The bag had knocked over when Nori had handed her the comb. A huge, brown-leathered thing almost as big as her. It had belonged to her mother, and Belladonna Took had owned it as long as Bella could remember. It had stayed forgotten in a corner next to the umbrella stand, in the entrance of Bag End, until Bella had took it in her sudden rush to flee her home an reach for the Company.

She frowned at it for a moment. The years had not been kind with the leather, but it seemed just as sturdy has if it had been brend new. Bella took it and spilled its contents across the ground. She had packed a few essential when she left her Smial, but never checked if there was something left from before... Bella knelt amongst her scattered clothes; the bag was so big, she had managed to pack one of her corsets. Despite her deep hatred for the dreadful thing, Bagginsy manners and habits ran down too deep in her mind, and she had decided to take it with her. She had brought also some spare blouses, another pair of papa’s old trousers, her brown skirt, smallclothes, linen... Nothing really precious or valuable enough to catch a thief’s attention. She groped around the clothes and found her little journal and some pencils, combs, pins, a scarf, one of her pipes – the other she kept in her pocket – and her tobacco tin, where she kept her pipe-weed. For a moment Bella thought that there was nothing else, but then her fingers felt an hardness beneath the fabric.

It was... A chain? A necklace.

It had a metallic, brownish colour. She recognized the heirloom, she had looked at it her entire life. The pendant had a beautiful carved flower. A deadly nightshade. A belladonna. A flower that gave name to the Belladonna to whom belonged that necklace.

Hobbits did not wore jewelry, gems or ornaments. Some embroidered gowns and dresses with tiny lumpy river pearls, but mostly preferred flower wreaths. And yet, the Tooks were not like the rest of the Hobbits.

Her mother’s family had owned it for generations. It was romured that it belonged to Bullroarer Took, but some whispered that it had really belonged to a fairy. A fairy, that some tales told, married a hobbit. A Took Hobbit.

Certainly, it was just a legend, but Bella wouldn’t be too surprised to find out she had a fairy as her ancestor. It would explain why her great- uncle Bullroarer was so tall and brave, and the reason behind all the Took’s extravagance.

She wasn’t a Took. She was a Baggins. Surely, that necklace was too extravagant for her. From Took to Took it had passed until it reached her mother and somehow ended in her old backpack.

Quickly, Bella showed the necklace and the rest of her things back into the bag. Luckily, Nori hadn’t found it and she shouldn’t had neither. It wasn’t hers, it was her mother’s. It was the Took’s. She did not deserved to have it, it was too precious.

 

 

The sun had disappeared below the rim of the world, when the Company gathered around the camp-fire for supper. Bella hurried to get her own bowl of stew. She knew, by now, that the dwarves ate more than Hobbits – which was a great deal to say for someone who was used to eat seven meals per day – and they also took away her apples before she could taste one, she was starving.

Bofur was helping Bombur as the stew was getting ticker, “Oh, nice of you to join us,” Floppy-hat said as he saw her, “I thought ya might have been carried off again.”

“And missing supper? Me? Never!”The smell of the stew hit her nostrils and made her mouth water.

Bella reached out to take bowl, but Bofur stopped her, “Oi, there ya little grocer! You’ll have your bowl once you filled the others for the lads.”

“Why?” Bella moaned, “That’s not fair!”

Bofur smirked, “Serves you well. Next time you’ll think twice before pulling up your tricks and run off as you did.” He handed her the bowls and gestured to the cauldron of thick, hot stew, “here. Off you go, now.”

Bella filled all the bowls and passed them from dwarf to dwarf. Most days, Bella couldn’t even understand what they were saying, but as far as she could tell, she’d bet they were actually enjoying being served supper as if she was a little, jolly serving maid.

_‘More a grocer than a Burglar, after all.’_

Bella kept filling and passing the bowls until it was Gandalf’s turn. The Grey Wizard sat by her side with his pipe in his mouth. Bella regarded him suspiciously as she handed him the bowl of stew. Despite being her mother’s old friend – and before that, a friend of her grandfather – and the one who boarded her up in this adventure, Bella really did know nothing about this wizard. She remembered his fireworks and some tales told under the party tree, but nothing more.

She had been avoiding the wizard During these last two weeks of the journey as much as she could. It had not been easy alone, but she didn’t wanted to run to Gandalf like a frightened child.

But it seemed Gandalf had no intention of being avoided, “glad to see you found your own place amongst the Company at last.”the wizard said.

Bella shot him a side-longed look, “better serving supper than tend to smelly ponies.”she replied.

The wizard snorted, “You are faring well, Bella. Better than I had first imagined.”

Bella arched an eyebrow as she finally filled the fifteenth bowl for herself, “really?”

“really! The first time I saw you I thought you were an exceptional little hobbit like I never met before. I feared that growing up that exceptional little girl might turn into an unexceptional young woman, but that wasn’t the case. It turns out you find the adventurous life to your taste. “ there was a hint of humor in his voice that had her suspect that it might have something to do with her run.

Bella ate a spoonful of stew, frowning. It was as good as always, but poorly seasoned, “I know I may seem too dainty, but what can I say? Did you think that all the Hobbits are used to ‘go-off’ into the blue and then come back for tea?”

“Not all Hobbits,” he conceded, “but some.”

Bella sighed, “My mother.”

“Belladonna Took. Your grandfather, the Old Took, and some of your uncles as well.”

Bella cocked her head on side, “My uncles?”

“yes, yes! Hildilfons and Isengar Took!”

“Hidilfons and Isengar Took?” Bella repeated around her mouthful of stew. She recalled well the names of the sixth-born and twelfth-born children of the Old Took. They had been her mother’s brothers, “I never met Hidilfons,” she told the Wizard, “he disappeared into thin air before I was born and I scarcely remember uncle Isengar. He drowned when I was still quite young.”

Gandalf shook his head, “Hidilfons did not disappeared, he had ‘gone-off out of his own free will! Off into distant lands, somewhere north, I’m ready to wager!” he declared, “And Isengar? Drowned? Hard to believe! He had loved the sea ever since he had first saw it. No, he’s probably sailing off to distant shores as we speak.”

“They had ‘gone-off’?” Bella was gobsmacked. It felt as if everything she had ever known was suddenly called into question, “’Gone-off’ into the blue... Just like me?”

Gandalf’s brow narrowed, “You didn’t know? You mean your mother never told you?”

Bella swallowed hard, “There are many things that my mother never told me.” Belladonna Took liked secrets as well as adventures. Secrets she kept even from her own daughter. How the Took’s necklace had gotten into her backback, to begin with.

Gandalf stared at her with his gleaming blue eyes and nodded, “What about that old rascal of your grandfather? He surely must have told you something?”

Bella snorted as she toyed with her spoon, “Well, no. I’m surprised he hadn’t! According to him, the Tooks are all slightly taller than the other hobbits because our ancestor was supposed to be a fairy. He often said they inherited their red hair and love for extravagance from fae blood!”

Gandalf looked at her as if she had just cursed, “Do you mean you don’t believe him!?”

“That a Took had married a fairy? Not really! It’s just a story to put to bed children at night with!”

“Oh, and now you’ll tell me you don’t believe your great-uncle Bullroarer had defeat the goblin king as well, huh?!”

“I’ve never seen a goblin in my life and probably never will!” Bella said vehemently, “You yourself said that all good stories deserves embellishments, didn’t you?”

Gandalf arched a brow, “You mean to tell me, Miss Baggins, that a dragon holding a mountain is an embellishment?”

That sent a shiver down her spine. Sometimes she would forget about the dragon. More than sometimes, in truth. Bella stuffed her mouth with her stew and said nothing for the rest of the evening.

 

That night she tossed and turned, laying on her thin bed-roll, beside the last crackling ambers of the fire.

The day had tired her out, but sleep would not come. The hard ground felt uncomfortable as every night, but Bella did not minded it as often. Doubts were growling in her mind. Balin’s words of earlier were echoing in her ears. According to the old dwarf she was needed for the quest... But not wanted.

Think that! A hobbit that looks like a grocer, employed to be a burglar by a Company of thirteen dwarves and a wizard on their way to reach a mountain and slay a dragon. Was it a supposed to be a riddle or the worst children’s bed-time story ever told?

Bella turned on one side and curled under her thin blanket. She closed her eyes and thought of home, letting greener memories lull her to sleep.

Suddenly there was a loud snore.

Bella jerked her head up. Curled upon his bed-roll, Glóin was snoring heavily. Tiny little moths erupted from his nostrils at every loud snort, and were promptly sucked back in with every inhale.

Bella stared at the sight wide-eyed. Her stomach gave a growl as loud as Glóin’s snores and, not knowing what else to do, she stood up from her blanket.

She casted a glance around her: it seemed the others were deep in slumber. Gandalf was leaning against a tree, smoking his pipe, silently.

Corious, she realized. She had never saw that wizard sleep.

Fíli and Kíli stood watch for the night. The brothers sat together, stoking the fire, smoking their pipes. Not noticing her walking around the camp. Not far from them, there he was, Thorin Oakenshield, back leaned against a rock, eyes closed, face crossed. a scowl heavy upon his brow.

Bella turned her head away, rolling her eyes. Unbelievable! Even when he was sleeping that prick of a king was scowling with his stern, hairy face.

Bella crept quietly past the brothers on tip toe. She walked over where Bombur had put her apples. The ginger dwarf was snoring softly. He had and half-bitten apple in one fist and bitten cores were scattered on his large belly. Too late. The dwarf cook had managed to eat that one, perfect apple she had intended to keep for herself. 

Bella quickly grabbed a couple of apples, one she slipped in her pocket, the second she gave it a lusty bite. Chewing happily, she walked over where the ponies had been rounded up amongst the trees near the edge of the cliff.

Myrtle raised her head as she saw her rider’s approach. Horsey hears pointed into her direction, huge nostrils flared, catching her scent.

Bella smiled, “There you are, girl. You heard me coming, didn’t you?”

Myrtle snorted.

“Yes.” She said giggling, reaching out a hand to pat the pony’s neck. How unexpected! Only two weeks before, not even in her wildest dreams Bella would’ve thought that she would end up riding on horse back, much less happily petting a pony.

Myrtle’s nostrils flared again, and she started nuzzling into her jacket.

“Oh? What are you looking for, there?” Bella slid her hand inside and picked up one of the spare apples.

“You want this?”

Myrtle snorted again.

“Oh, I don’t know, girl. I don’t think you deserve it. You got me in some serious trouble today.” She whispered as she petted the pony’s muzzle, fondly.

Myrtle snorted once again, lauder.

Bella sneezed, "Ah, I ought to have you boiled for glue! Should we run off into the woods again, I’m finished! As if they need another reason to detest me! Clearly, they don’t want me here,” she glanced behind her shoulder, making sure the dwarf king was still asleep. He was still leaning on his rock, scowling and eyes closed, “Thorin Oakenshield more than the others.” 

Myrtle gave a low, sympathetic neigh.

Bella smiled and wrapped her arms around the pony’s neck, “I’m sorry for what I said. I could never have you boiled for glue, I didn’t mean it, really! The truth is, that dwarf sure brings out the worst in me!” she admitted vehemently.

“He’s always scowling and bossing everyone around! Although, alright! He’s a king, but one expects a king to be galant and—and majestic! Well... He is majestic, but he’s also an idiot! Yes, that’s what he is, alright! A majestic idiot!”

The lively mare simply shook her long neck, as if nodding in approval.

“You agree? Thank you! There you go!” She said as she finally fed her pony the plump, red apple.

Bella bit her lip, “A rather handsome majestic idiot.” She considered, “But that’s our little secret Myrtle. You must tell no one. Shh. Shhh.”

Bella sighed and rested the back of her head against Myrtle’s soft belly. The sweet mare let her rider rest her weight against hers. The animal’s belly was warm and smelly, her soft fur carried a musky scent. Bella’s head was rising and falling gently with every breath Myrtle made. The slow rhythm, soon had Bella drifting into sleep. Myrtle was surely a better pillow than her rough backpack. Balanced on her heels, she rested her head more comfortably against Myrtle’s belly and let her eyes close. . .

. . . When a low scream split the night.

Startled, Myrtle jumped aside, letting Bella lose her balance and fall on the ground. Just as startled as her pony, Bella jerked back on her feet and hurried back to the camp.

“What was that?” she asked no one in particular keeping her eyes into the black of the night, where the cliff ended sharply below. She quickly crept next to the crackling campfire.

“Orcs.” A voice behind her answered.

She turned. Fíli and Kíli were looking at her closely. Orange lights if the fire danced through their features basking their faces in shadows.

“Orcs?” she breathed, incredulous.

Orcs. Just as that. The dark and monstrous creatures that hunted her adventures books and cold, winter nightmares, seemed to find a way out of the pages and her dreams, somehow.

“Cut throats.” Fíli declared Casually, as if he was talking of Sunday’s elevensies snacks,“There’ll be dozens of them out there. The lone-lands are crawling with them.” The blond lad added as he curled his lips around his pipe.

“They strike in the wee small hours, when everyone is asleep. Quick and quiet, no screams. Just lots of blood...” Kíli declared in a solemn whisper. Dark eyes casted into the black of the night.

Bella quivered like an harpstring and crept closer and closer to the warmth of the fire. Seeking the protection of the flames.

Suddenly her hears twitched, catching a choked, silent laughter from the dwarf-lads.

Bella looked at them in confusion. Were these dwarves so bold and fearless facing those creature?

Or perhaps they were just laughing at her scared expression.

“That’s enough.” A deep voice commanded at her back.

Bella could not know, but the dwarf King to whom belonged that voice, had woken up several minutes earlier. His eyes had snapped open, alert and intent, at the only mention of the word ‘Orcs.’

The dwarf King prowled past her, casting a sidelong glare at his nephews, “You think that’s funny?” he scolded, “You think that a night-raid by Orcs is a joke?”

The lads turned meek instantly at their uncle’s harsh warning.

Kíli could scarcely meet Thorin’s eyes, “We didn’t mean anything by it.”

Bella blinked in realization. Fíli and Kíli were only trying to scare her. Well, at least they weren’t surrounded by actual Orcs.

“No, you didn’t.” Thorin spat as he went past her. He casted a glance at Bella with the corner of his eyes, the blue of them catched the light of the fire setting them ablaze, “You know nothing of the world.”

His words were addressed to Fíli and Kíli, but he glanced at her as he said them.

Bella was nonplussed. How could he have come to despise her so?

“Don’t mind him, laddie.” A softer voice spoke this time.

Bella turned to see Balin standing next to Fíli and Kíli,“Thorin has more cause than most to hate Orcs. After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thrór tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria... but our enemy had got there first.” The old dwarf told softly as he stroked his fine, silky, white beard.

Bella stared. Raptured, she sat down next to Fíli and Kíli. Her eyes intent on Balin, pointy ears alert like a child’s at the prompt: it seemed that the old dwarf had just begun telling a story!

“Moria had been taken by legions of Orcs, led by the most vile of all their race, Azog the Defiler. The giant Gundabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began by beheading the King. Thráin, Thorin’s father, was driven mad by grief. He went missing, taken prisoner or killed; we did not know. We were leaderless, defeat and death were upon us.”

The old dwarf’s voice drifted away, becoming almost a whisper. Lost into bitter memories, she realized. Bella found herself leaning forward to listen.

A great battle, a mighty king, bravely fighting a dark foe. She had spent years pouring stories of heroes and battles from her books.

But this story was different. All was wrong; in the great stories, the mighty king always slayed his foes, saved his kingdom and won the battles, but this story was different.

Suddenly Balin’s blue eyes fell on her, as he probably noticed her anxious interest. He begun to resume his story, for her ears as well, this time, “That is when I saw him; the young dwarf prince facing down the Pale Orc.”

He glanced beyond her, toward the cliff. Bella let out her breath in a nonplussed gasp and turned. Her eyes searching the hero of the story.

Thorin Oakenshield stood by the hedge of the stoney cliff, looking off into the distance, into the black of the night. A sudden cool breath at the back of her neck, risen from the trees. A loose strand of her tawny hair stirred against her cheek.

The cool breeze reached Thorin on the cliff, stirring his own dark mane, sending his coat flapping in the wind.

“He stood alone against this terrible foe, his armour rent, wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield...”

So that’s what that oak branch was! An ‘Oaken-shield’, not a cheese platter!

“Azog the Defiler learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken. Our forces rallied and drove the Orcs back; our enemy had been defeated...”

Bella listened entraced, hypnotized. Her heart fluttering.

Thorin did all that?

Suddenly Bella heard a noise of heavy footsteps on the ground, all the dwarves were now fully awake. They all gathered around her, faces turned, eyes casted toward their King. Bella looked around and saw Gandalf sitting quietly, gleaming eyes intent on Thorin as well.

Balin went on with his tale, “But there was no feast or songs that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived and I thought to myself then, there is one I could follow. There is one I could call King.”

Bella turned back to Thorin, still facing the darkness beyond the edge of the cliff. She could not help but stare at him and at the look on the dwarves’s faces.

They looked at their king with respect and bewilderment. She remembered of the night she met the Company, back in Bag End, of the way Thorin spoke to the dwarves, the hope that filled the room despite the threat of a dragon. These thirteen were determined to follow their King even through fire. . .

. . .And now she knew why.

Finally, the dwarf King turned away from the darkness, rising his eyes to his companions. The dwarves parted as Thorin strode through and past them.

Bella hugged her knees against her chest, “... What happened to him? The pale orc?” she asked uncertaintly, voice almost a whisper, yet all the dwarves turned to her at her question.

“He slunk back into the hole whence he came,” a deep voice rumbled. Bella turned her head toward it, it was Thorin Oakenshield himself who answered, “ That filth died of his wounds long ago.”

Thorin’s voice faded into the black of the night. His eyes, pale blue flames heavied by the weight of the frown upon his brow.

His voice. It seemed to breathe further life into his slain foe. But the orc is dead at least. Like in the great stories, the King defeats his enemy.

Yet, Bella did noticed the look between Balin and Gandalf, twinkling, blue eyes met gleaming, azure ones in a silent conversation. She thought then, if that story too had been embellished somehow.

When she returned to her bed-roll, Bella dreamed of Thorin, holding his oaken-shield out against the glittering jaws of a firework dragon. Sparkling gold-red flame wings swallowed the stars.

 


	6. A big 'Trollble'

Bella had taken a shortcut to mushrooms in the tall, supple bushes, in the depths of the undergrowth. Her furry toes curled in the soft, moist soil, the warm sun kiss on her face... And a shy dwarf shadow at her back.

Ori was hunched in his shoulders, walking slowly behind her. “This is so not allowed.” he whispered timidly for the hundredth time as he followed her close behind.

Bella made her way through the bushes. “I promise we won’t go far. The others won’t even realize we’re gone. I’m sure I glimpsed them during our ride, the mushroom patch should be around here.”

The Company had called an halt to water the ponies at a nearby stream. It was then that Bella had caught a glimpse of the supple white mushrooms that so often she used in her own kitchen, back in Bag End, and had an idea.

Quietly, she had dismounted from her saddle and sneaked into the bushes when no one was watching. Only when she heard the sound of heavy steel-toed boots on soft grass she realized one of the dwarves had followed her. She and Ori awkwardly startled when they ran into each other, and Bella decided to drag the timid, protesting dwarf along with her in the undergrowth.

The bushes swallowed her up, closing behind her and Ori as they passed.

“It shouldn’t be long,” she reassured him, “We must be close. The undergrowth is the ideal place to find mushrooms...” she kept looking around her until her eyes caught something, “... Oh, look! Cooking herbs!”

Bella knelt in the dirt and begun to pick the leaves and sprigs of those precious ingredients. There in the depths of the forest, she found sage, basil and even a plant of rosemary.

Ori was observing her closely with a puzzled look on his face. She caught his eyes as she pulled balmy leaves of basil from its stems, and the shy dwarf promptly turned red and lowered his gaze.

“Could you imagine the great variety of meals we could cook with all these herbs?” she asked the lad giddy, as she presented him with the basil leaves.

Ori blinked at the basil and rearranged his thoughts, “I could not.” He sniffed the balminess of the leaves and frowned, “I don’t like _green food_.”

Bella rolled her eyes and snorted, turning back toward the bushes.

“So Hobbits use these _weeds_ for cooking other than healing, Miss Baggins?” he asked curious.

“Cooking herbs, not weeds, Ori.” Bella corrected, “and yes, they can be used for a great variety of things.”

“I see.” The young dwarf pulled up a little brown-lathered notebook. hunching in his shoulders. He begun to scrabble something on the tick paper, glancing up at her from time to time, lowering his eyes again whenever Bella turned around.

Ori scarcely seemed to bear holding her gaze, but he had a curiosity that made up for his shyness. Virtue that many of his companions seemed not to possess.

Bella turned near a blackberry bush and begun to fill her empty water skin with supple, wild berries. Once she was done, she turned to pick some sprigs of rosemary and stuffed them in her weistcoat’s pockets.

When she turned back, Ori was still observing her, sketching something in his notebook, before he met her eyes and lowered his gaze, “Why would Hobbits use all these weeds to cook, Miss Baggins?” he asked, clearly puzzled.

Bella blew a tawny lock away from her face, “Cooking herbs.” She corrected again as she stuffed the leaves and sprigs in her pockets, “it enhances the taste.”

Ori frowned, “Green food has no taste.”

The young lad had mistaken her prized tomatoes for apples, the night the Company came to Bag End. The others had eaten every single piece of food in her pantry, except for the vegetables. The only dwarf Bella remembered seeing eat ‘green food’ was Bombur. He ate everything that was edible, no matter the colour.

“Don’t dwarves grow food from the earth?” she asked, curious, “don’t you harvest?”

Ori pulled a leaf of sage from its stem and sniffed, “Dwarves are not harvesting folks. We hunt, we hawk and fish in the forests and rivers near the Blue Mountains.”

The dwarves were mountains dwellers, Bella realized. Unlike Hobbits, who preferred delving comfortable burrows into hillsides and work in the fields. In the rocky paths of the northern mountains, she knew, there were no good fields to plow and nothing ever grew there if not wildflowers.

“So, you never ever tasted how good fried egg sare on asparagus savored with truffle sauce? Or how tasty are stuffed red peppers! Oh, don’t even get me started on the salads! Oh, the salads...”

“And these are only few of the possibilities; rosemary is good on almost every kind of meat, pork, chicken, rabbit and duck. Oh! Roasted duck!” only thinking about it made her mouth water. Roasted duck with orange was one of her favorite dishes and it made her think back about one of her best riddles.

 _“Strip the skin under my skin, and my flesh you’ll reveal. It tastes sweet and tart, now throw out the peel. What is it? ”_ she recited almost carelessly.

Ori’s head shot up suddenly, his eyes bright and determined. He thought a moment and said, “An orange!”

“Oh, you’re brilliant, Ori!” Bella beamed up.

The shy dwarf reddened at the praise and lowered his eyes to his boots, though his lips  curled up in a pleased smile.

Bella stood from the ground and dusted off her trousers, “C’mon, We still haven’t found those mushrooms.”

Ori followed, no more hesitant.

There, in a grassy spot beneath a fallen tree, Bella and Ori found the flush of supple, plump white mushrooms growing in the moist, rotten wood.

Bella shed of her red jacket, ready to get to work, “Ori? Be a dear and hold this out for me, if you would.”

Ori promptly did as she asked, pleased to help. He held out the jacket as Bella knelt in the moist soil and hands deep in the dirt, carefully begun to select the best mushrooms, making sure to leave the most damaged, rotten and squashed behind.

Once she was happy with her pick, Ori’s arms were loaded with supple, white mushrooms, almost over-spilling her jacket. Satisfied with herself Bella stood from the ground and wiped tiny beads of perspiration from her forehead.

She had picked enough mushrooms to feed the entire Company, but the forest had so many more delights to offer, and for a moment, she felt at peace. At home. Kneeling in the dirt, feeling the warm sun kiss on her face, reminded Bella of her beautiful garden, of her beautiful Shire. Where she wasn’t amongst strangers, where she wasn’t a burden.

Bella sighed, “I wish I could just... Stay here.” She admitted out loud.

Ori stepped up, “We could stay here a bit longer, if you wish, Miss Baggins.”

Bella almost wanted to laugh, “Oh-what?” she snorted, “Oh, no. No. If I delay the day’s ride one more time I would never hear the end of it from Thorin and the others. Besides, I don’t want to get you in trouble. You’ve been a darling to keep me company today.”

Ori’s hazel eyes widened and his face turned bright scarlett, “You are... very welcome, Miss Baggins.”he blurted.

 

And so, both walked back toward the stream. Bella’s jacket was loaded with white mushrooms and pressed into her waistcoat’s pocket she hid leaves and herbs of every of every kind.

When she and Ori emerged from the bushes, luckily, none of the dwarves seemed to take notice they were gone. Finally, when all the ponies had been watered, it was time to resume the ride.

Quick and silent, Bella hid her jacket full of mushrooms into her saddle-sack without being noticed and climbed in saddle. As soon as she mounted back on Myrtle, she felt giddy and excited. The blisters and the saddlesores were gone and now, Bella came more eager and willingly to her saddle with each passing day.

She had learned to keep her heels down and her shoulders straight. Learned how to rouse her filly to a trot with a light kick without sending her bolting. And Myrtle obliged, keeping a fluid, rhythmic gait. In truth, she was still a fair rider and still sat a little wobbly on saddle, but some newly found confidence had encouraged her to be daring. Even the dwarves had noticed the change.

“Said ya wouldn’t learn to ride in two years,” Bofur had told her, “But ya got better in two days, lass!” Floppy-hat had winked at her and clasped her shoulder fondly.

Fíli and Kíli rode at her side whenever they could. Teaching her some riding tricks, ready to grab her bridle and lead her back into the column if she ever bolted off again. Since her little run, Thorin had tasked his nephews to keep an eye on her and warned Bella not to leave the column on her own.

She casted a quick glance around her, Thorin Oakenshield was riding at the head of the column followed by Balin and Dwalin, hopefully unaware if her little short cut to the mushroom patch. She didn’t wanted to give him the satisfaction of scolding her one more time, and certainly didn’t wanted to get poor Ori in trouble.

Bella tucked the basil leaves more carefully into her pockets. Glancing up, she caught Ori’s clever eyes and raised a finger to her lips with an air of complicity. The shy dwarf’s cheeks turned pink and his lips curled up in a smile.

If Thorin knew she left the column, even if briefly, in search of mushrooms and herbs in the undergrowth, she would be really in for it, this time.

For the dwarves, she was invisible, except the times when they felt the need to order her to tend to the ponies, to gather up the firewood, and wash the bowls at the stream after supper. In those times, she really wished she was invisible. Bella did not minded the chores, but she knew that the dwarves kept finding her work to keep her busy and on the back foot. It wasn’t a surprise, she had learned by now, that her companions considered her a burden. But, she was determined to prove them wrong.

One last glance around her, making sure the leaves were surely tucked away in her pockets.

“You Hobbits and your love for food,” a rumbling voice called, startling her. Out of nowhere, Gandalf rode up beside her on his big horse, “Do you intend to spend the days of your journey hiding mushrooms, berries and fruits in your saddle-sacks and leaves in your clothes, my dear Bella?”

Bella huffed, blowing a strand of hair away from her face, “Where you here the whole time?”

Gandalf raised a grey, bushy brow under his pointy hat, “where else should I be?”

That was the same answer he had given her the day he came to her doorstep. Well, question. The Grey wizard was enigmatic and always answered her questions with one of his own.

“Well, I noticed you like to disappear from time to time. You always did.”

The Wizard’s blue eyes gleamed softly, “Oh, I could say the same thing about you,” he blinked, “let’s see; Basil, rosemary, sage and mushrooms. What do you have in mind, Bella Baggins?”

Despite her first ostility, there was a sort of sanctity in Gandalf’s presence. Even though she was firm in her decision of not run to him for help, she was glad to have him near.

Bella smiled up at him, mischievous, “You’ll be surprised to see what I can do with rosemary and some mushrooms.”

She set her heels lightly on Myrtle’s sides and trotted off, leaving Gandalf behind.

 

Later that evening, the company built camp in the middle of the forest. Once all the ponies had been tended to, and the camp fire was crackling merrily, it was time for Bella to laid out her plan.

She collected all the ingredients she needed, but now came the hard part; convincing the cook.

Next to a gardener, a cook was the touchiest thing in a Shire household, and Bella didn’t see why it would be different for dwarves. Thorin Oakenshield may have been the leader of the Company, but in his own kitchen every cook was king.

When she presented the mushrooms, Bofur arched a brow, Bifur grunted and Bombur was curious.

The Ur’s stared at the mushrooms and then at her, lost. The ginger cook stepped up and gave the mushrooms a close inspection. Bofur gave a closer one, “Where did ya find these, lassie?”

“There was a mushroom patch, deep into the undergrowth, not far from the path we came from.” Bella confessed, burying her hands in her pockets.

Floppy-hat made a mock-scolding noise with his mouth, “You’ve been wandering off again, naughty lass.”

Bombur picked up a plump, white mushroom and swallowed it whole, without even wiping away the dirt first. The ginger dwarf’s blue eyes widened in surprise as he gave a lusty sound of appreciation.

Bombur quickly grabbed two more, Bifur and Bofur followed suit. Soon the whole Ur family was gnawing on her precious pick.

“No, stop! Stop! _STOP!_ ” She bellowed, indignant.

The Urs turned all to look at her, with tiny crumbs in their beards and morsels of mushrooms between their teeth.

Bella stepped foward and picked up the mushrooms, keeping them away from the greedy hands of dwarves. “These are for the stew.”

Bombur blinked, confused.

“For the stew?” Bofur spoke for his younger brother, “Why would ya put mushrooms in the stew?”

“To enhance the taste.”

Bombur pursed his lips, looking like a child fit to cry.

“Ya don’t like the way Bombur cooks, lass?” Bofur asked raising a brow.

“No! No, it’s not like that!” Bella said hurriedly, shaking her hands. “it’s just... I thought that that for once, we could try to cook something different?”

The Urs looked at each other, uncertainly.

Bofur pulled his hat over his forehead, “And use mushrooms to cook a stew?”

“It would make it more tasty.”

The ginger dwarf cook looked confused, looking at his older brother expectantly.

“It’s stew, lass. A simple meal, easy to cook and meant for traveling. It tastes what it tastes like. I’d like to see someone do better.” Bofur answered for him.

“We could,” Bella said, pulling the herbs from her pockets. “With the mushrooms and with these.”

The three dwarves leaned foward to get a closer look. Bofur frowned, “What else ya got in there, lass?”

Bombur picked up a sprig of rosemary and examinated it, perplexed.

Bella huffed, exasperated, “This is Rosemary , to savor the meat.”

Bofur made a face, Bombur blinked confusion and Bifur gave a low growl.

“Sage?” she attempted.

The Urs looked at each other, murmuring something under their breath. Bifur made some stiff gestures with his hands.

Bella cleared her voice and attempted a different approach, “These are cooking herbs, Hobbits often use them to savor the meat, I promise you will like them, please, let me use them in the stew?”

None of the Urs seemed convinced, but Bella only needed to convince the cook, “Please, Bombur. You liked my food the night you came to my house.”

The ginger dwarf pondered a moment, looking at the sprig of of rosemary in his hands and then back at Bella. He smiled, at last and nodded.

Bofur threw his hands up, “Alright, lass! Go ahead and cook your Hobbit-stew, Master grocer!”

And so, Bombur begun to prepare the stew, following her recipe. Bombur fetched the water for the cauldron and Bella begun to cut the mushrooms to add to the gravy.

“The secret to a tasty stew it’s in the gravy.” Bella explained as she put the stew seasoning in a bowl. “Mix it with water and let it cook until no dry mix remains.”

Bombur was observing every move, fascinated, asking questions and giving tips;

“Oh, let’s not forget a good wash of ale.” He said as he poured the ale in the mix.

“How do you season the beef, Miss Baggins?”

“What did you said that ‘ _weed_ ’ was called?”

“Why are these leaves smelling so good? Is this some kind of Hobbit-thing.”

Bella stared in astonishment. She never heard the ginger dwarf talk so much. They both started talking lovingly about recipes and herbs and ingredients. Of all the Urs, Bofur was certainly the most easy-going and carefree, but Bombur seemed to outshine his older brother when it came of talking of cooking.

Bofur was laying on the grass, smoking his pipe and pretending not to pay any attention to what Bella and his brother were doing, but Bella swore she had seen him smile and roll his eyes in fake exasperation.

Bella fetched the beef and the sausages Bombur kept in a sack. Suddenly, the dwarf cook looked concerned, turning red and shifting his gaze from the goods in her hands to Bella. Before he could open his mouth to say anything, Bella shook her head.

“Don’t worry, Bombur. I know you took some ingredients from my pantry when you left Bag End. You all sure ate a lot, that night, but in my pantry there was enough food to last an entire winter. I suspected you must have brought something with you.”

Bombur only became redder, turned silent by shame.

“Oh, Don’t.” Bella reassured, “No harm done, really. "

The cook looked confused, but said nothing.

Bella smiled, “If you didn’t took these goods, we wouldn’t been cooking together now, don’t you think?”

Once the gravy was ready and it was time to add the mushrooms at the mix and to pour the sauce over the beef. Soon, the air became heavy with the smell of tasty, well savored stew.

Not all the stars had appeared in the sky, that suddenly all the dwarves turned to glance casually, sniffing the air, attracted to the smell like bees to flowers.

Bofur poked her shoulder, “Seems like your supper had turned some heads, lassie.”

All the thirteen dwarves sat around the fire with curious expressions on their faces – on twelve of them, at best. Thorin’s face never let anything out.

“By my beard! What is this amazing smell?”

“I could almost taste it!”

“I’m so hungry I’ll eat my boot!”

“Aye! That stew it’s getting thick, isn’t it, lassie?”

The more the chatter went on, the more she felt giddy and excited for the first time around the dwarves. Impatient to see how they would react once they tasted what she had cooked. Serene in her confidence, she reached out and passed the first bowl filled to the brim to Thorin.

It seemed just right; the dwarf king had been the last to come to Bag End, the night she met the company. The others ate almost all the food in her pantry and stored what was left for supplies without her knowing, so she had served him a stew cooked with what was left. It seemed fair to serve him first, this time.

In truth, Thorin Oakenshield was one of the reasons why she had planned to cook a special supper for the dwarves. 

Also he was royalty. It was simply befitting.

Thorin took the bowl from her hands, nodding his thanks. His face, a mask of stone as always.

From dwarf to dwarf Bella passed the bowls filled with her hit, thick Hobbit-stew until her expectations were met with unexpected satisfaction. When her pointy ears caught the grunts and groans of the dwarves and the sounds of wooden spoons greedily hitting the bowls.

Her heart swelled with joy and her mouth almost hurt for trying very hard not to smile as she observed the dwarves.

When she finally reached Ori, the young dwarf was smiling up at her, his cheeks flushed by the warmth of the fire. “I see your plan turned out for the better, Miss Baggins.”

Clever lad. Bella thought, no more concealing her smiles, “Thanks to you. You had been the one venturing with me for those mushrooms, Ori.”

The young dwarf smiled and ate a spoonful. His eyes widened, gleaming in the firelight, “Its wonderful, Miss Baggins!”

“Ori.” She said laughing, “You can call me just Bella.”

Ori shifted his eyes to his bowl. “I can’t.” He admitted with sheepish formality.

Bella huffed, rolling her eyes and went on. Once all the bowls had been passed around amongst the company, Bella came to sit next to Gandalf, enjoying the sight;

The dwarves were digging their spoons into the bowls as if they were wielding shovels, giving pleased grunts and groans of appetite.

“Mahal, never ate anything like this, before!” Glóin exclaimed around a huge mouthful.  

“Aye!” Dwalin agreed, “It’s tasty and the beef is good, but different from the one we ate last night, or the night before.”

Kíli was making a mess on his bowl and had gravy dripping from his beard. He nodded frantically, making sloppy noises of approval.

"Ye would think taste one stew, tasted every stew, but our Bombur had truly cooked a supper worthy of this name, tonight.” Nori declared.  

“Ah, Nay.” Bofur cut in, “Ya have to thank our Master Buglar for the stew. The lassie cooked tonight.

All the thirteen turned to her, as if suddenly noticing her presence.

“Did you now?” Dori asked with a air of skepticism about him.

“None other.” Bombur confirmed, laying a hand on Bella’s shoulder almost protectively.

“It’s different from anything that we had ever had before. What did you put in it?” Fíli wanted to know.

Bella cleared her throat, “Oh, only some mushrooms, a good wash of ale and just a sprig of rosemary.”

At the mention of the herb, the dwarves made confused faces.

“Ro-se-ma-r-y. It’s a cooking herb.”

Ori raised his spoon. “to enhance the taste!”

Dori gave his youngest brother a side-longed look, “And what would you know about that?”

“Don’t you know? Hobbits use all kinds of herbs to cook their food; Rosemary, sage and basil, for example. It’s a fact, Dori.”

The pompous tailor looked bewildered and confused at his younger brother’s remark, and Bella tried very hard not to burst into laugher at the scene.

The dwarves kept on chewing greedily on their bowls. Many went for a second fill, some even a third, but only Bombur – Yavanna bless his heart – went as far as a fifth.

Bella was hiding a small, smug smile against her spoon, as she watched delighted thirteen dwarves getting all sloppy with gravy on their beards like hungry children.

She found herself peering curiously at Thorin Oakenshield, who had quietly filled his bowl a second time, without saying anything. Bella was searching his stone face for any kind of sign that proved he enjoyed his supper... She had almost surrendered when she heard the sound of his wooden spoon hitting the bottom of the bowl and a low growl of indignation. It was so startling and unexpected her ears almost twitched for the surprise.

A thrill run through her whole body and suddenly concealing her smiles was impossible. She tried to compose herself, rearranging her thoughts.

“I don’t know about you, lads,” Bofur declared out loud, “but all that thick, wonderful stew deserves to go down with a good wash of ale!” he pulled a full goatskin out of his saddle-sack and all the dwarves cheered loudly.

They passed mugs and the goatskin filled with ale around, laughing and cheering. Bella gaped in astonishment. It was the first time the dwarves offered her a mug of ale after a filling supper.

Her surprise was even greater when they started sharing stories... In common westron instead of ‘dwarvish’. They were telling real stories of battles and heroes. Battles they had truly fought, not myths and legends, and they were telling them for her ears too, this time!

The evening went on, many stories had been told and somehow, Bella ended at the centre of the attention.

“And what about ye, Burglar?” Glóin called suddenly, “Dinnae have some story ye want to share with us?”

“Aye, speak up, laddie!” Bofur bumped his shoulder lightly against hers.

“Me?” Bella felt all eyes on her.

“Ye. Do you see another Hobbit lass around here?”

“Oh, I – I...”

Floppy-hat took a long drought from his mug, “C’mon! Tell us something about the Shire!

The dwarves nodded vigorously at that. Oín even assured his trumpet more carefully to his ear.

“Yes, Tell us about the halflings, Miss Boggins!” Kíli agreed.

“How do you live, what do you do, things like that.” Fíli joined.

Bella cleared her throat, “Oh...well, the life in the Shire is... rather quiet and calm. The Hobbits usually work in the fields, in the farms and at the market. We all lead quiet existances, devoted to our families and our children, for all Hobbits are fond of things that grow.”

The dwarves looked at her like she was speaking a different language they could not comprehend.

Nori spoke up, “Aye, aye, aye. And when a Hobbit farts it smells of flowers!”

Bifur scuffed him behind his neck. Muttering something in grunts and growls.

“And nothing else?” Kíli wanted to know. “What how do Hobbits deal with battles, and wars?”

“Hobbits are not fighting folks.”

“What? Never a skirmish or an uprising?” Glóin complained.

“Never a rebellion or an ambush?” Dwalin joined.

“No. Not the last century, at least.”

The dwarves seemed almost disappointed by that.

“What about your family, Miss _Boggins_?” Kíli asked, “How come we saw no one else in your big Hobbit-hole?”

“Oh.” Bella took a long drought of ale to refresh her dry throat. “Well, you see, the members of my family; my aunts, uncles and cousins have all families of their own, and they all live in their own homes.”

“What about your parents?”

“They are dead.” She took another drought.

The dwarves stared at her, but she saw something different in their eyes. It seemed, for the first time ever, that she was part of them. 

After a moment of silence, Balin spoke up, “We are sorry for your loss, lassie.”

“It was long ago.”

“We know loss, ” Balin replied. “and not matter how much time passes by. Grievance it’s like an open wound; slow to heal, and forever marking your skin.”

The dwarves nodded solemnly in acknowledgement, muttering their assent under their breaths in formal quietness.

“I thank you for your kindness.” She murmured softly.

It brought back sad memories, but she did not wanted to end the evening in sombered silence. Thankfully, dear Bofur was quick to resume the conversation.

“What about your Hobbit-hole? That must have been a cozy nest to grew in, aye? ”

Bella nodded. “I inherited Bag End from my father when he passed...” she fiercely shook away the thought of grinning Sackville-Bagginses taking away her home. What was happening in the Shire, now that she was gone?

“... It’s the place I was born in and the place where I hope to die when I’m old. I love everything about it; my books, my cozy armchair, and my warm fireplace. It’s where my roots run deep. ”

Bofur made a face, “Never thought of leaving?”

 _He doesn’t understand._ Bella realized. “I can't. I won’t. I cannot possibly let it go. It’s part of who I am.” she said fiercely.  

Thorin, who had remained silent and still as a stone, watching her, arched a dark, sharp brow, studying her. His gaze felt as heavy as a touch and Bella could not help, but stare back. But Thorin turned away so suddenly that Bella almost thought she had imagined it.

Out of the blue, Gandalf appeared by her side. “I’ll have to lend it to you, it’s almost a victory.” He whispered. 

“What are you talking about?”

The wizard was smoking his pipe, blowing ribbons of smoke from his nostrils. “Tonight.” He said, “You brought these dwarves closer to you with a simple stew – a very good stew, if I may add. I had two bowls for myself.”

Bella smiled. “Thank you, Gandalf.”

“You are very welcome, my dear girl. But remember, the road ahead is still long.”

She nodded, lowered her head to her mug and took a small sip.

 

She woke up in the dim, blazing light of dying coals with her head heavy and and her bladder full. Sleeping dwarves huddled all around her.

Bella stood, regretting drinking too much ale. She tip-toed a round the camp quick and quiet as possible.

“Where are you going?”

Bella turned. Kíli was standing watch. He sat by the the burning coals, sharpening his knives. Fíli was lying on his blanket, next to his brother with his arms crossed behind his head, snoring softly.

“I need to go to the bushes...”

“You heard Thorin. You are not to leave the Company alone, especially at night. I’m sorry, Miss _Boggins_.”

“Please! I’ll make it quick.”

“Quick as you bolted off with Myrtle? I’m sorry you can’t.”

Bella was growing impatient and her bladder was full to burst. “That’s not fair!”

Kíli was unmoving. “Serves you well. Now, go back to sleep. It’s almost dawn. You’ll go during the last watch of the night.”

Bella looked at him, pleadingly.

The lad almost looked guilty. “I wouldn’t dare go into the woods myself, Bella. Remember. Orcs.

Bella thought a moment and said, “It’s not that urgent. I’ll go during my turn, whe the sun rises.”

Kíli looked proud of himself thinking he had convinced her. “That’s a good idea.”

She went back to the camp, peering behind her shoulder and when Kíli turned away, quickly, she hopped onto the nearest tree.

She climbed high and jumped from tree to tree, reaching for the closest branches. She saw Kíli down below her, completely unaware of what she was doing. Quick and silent, she went far enough to cast some distance and climbed down from an old, dying tree with a twisted trunk.

She stole into the nearest bushes, unbuckled her trousers to the ankles and squatted. Once she was done. She gave a long, relieved sigh, even her head felt lighter.

Once she Buckled up her trousers, Bella wandered blindly in the darkness, trying to find the dying tree from where she climbed down. She pushed a low branch to get through, but the shrub slashed back, slapping her accross her face. She cried indignantly as she stumbled backwards and crashed against something hard.

Bella reached back tentatively behind her as her other hand came to rub her nose and she felt something soft... Almost... A fur coat?

The Hobbit turned, jumping away in realization. Thorin Oakenshield stood in the darkness looking down at her.

“Good Yavanna!” she blurted, startled.

The dwarf king looked at her with piercing blue eyes darkened by an even darker scowl. “What are you doing in the woods alone, if I may ask?”

“I needed to... Attend a business.” Bella explained, flushing to her neck.

Thorin’s face was unmoving. “I thought I told you not to leave the Company on your own. When you are given an order, I expect that you... “ he trailed off, arching a brow.

“... How did you left the camp unnoticed?”

Bella hesitated a moment, then turned around and pointed vaguely at the branches above.

Thorin’s eyes widened, “You jumped from branch to branch and no one heard you?”

“Yes.”

Thorin’s stone mask fell, and for a moment, he looked... Surprised?

He looked at the branches above and then back at her. Crossed his arms against his chest and said quite serious, “If you had been an orc, we would all be dead.”

Bella stared in astonishment. She looked at him right in his eyes and her mouth curled up in a wide smile, though she never told it to.

Thorin stared back with an unreadable expression on his face, until he turned away suddenly. “It’s almost dawn. We ought to go back. And remember, Miss Baggins. Don’t leave the Company on your own, not even to pick mushrooms in the woods.”

We they made it back to the camp, the sun had not risen yet. Bella went back to her blanked and closed her eyes, still smiling. Thorin Oakenshield had never given her a compliment, before.

 

 

 

The next day Bella felt the first soft drops on her brow. The air had become thick and foggy as a gloomy mist had risen from the earth.

The rain begun to fell tick and warm as the Company mounted on saddle to resume their ride. The earthy scent of the forest filled her nostrils, but where soon replaced by the thick smell of wet horses ... and wet dwarves.

They rode in a column through the forest, soon the dwarves became grumpy and irritated. Some began to growl and grunt.

Bella was feeling a little moody herself. She wiped her face with the little piece of cloth Bofur had given her, but she was soaking wet within an hour.

Bella had grown used to her pony and she was not as dainty to sleep on the ground as she had been before, but as her journey wore on she found it was harder and harder every day to manage without and handkerchief.

“Mister Gandalf! Can’t you do something about this deluge?” Dori complained from underneath his wet hood.

Bella had no hood nor cape. Her hair stuck around her neck and on her brow, but at least she wasn’t as whiny as the pompous tailor.

“It’s raining, Master dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done.” Gandalf answered riding ahead of her, “If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard.”

Bella got curious, “Are there any?” she asked Gandalf.

“What?”

“Other wizards?”

“There are five of us. The greatest of our order is Saruman the White. And then there are the two Blue Wizards... You know? I’ve quite forgotten their names.”

“And the fifth?” Bella wanted to know.

“Well, that would be Radagast the Brown.”

Bella smiled to herself, mischievously, “Is he a great wizard, or is he more like you?” she asked pert.

She heard Bofur behind her give a choked snort.

Gandalf turned to her, sending her a exasperated look. Raindrops were running down from his pointy hat. “Well, I think he is a very great wizard... In his own way. He’s a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals for others. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest lands to the East, and a good thing too. For always evil will look to find a foothold in this world.”

Bella thought about that. A wizard whose colour was brown, who lived deep in the woods. She wondered if she would ever get to meet him.

They rode for half a day with rain in their eyes as the ponies’ hooves made sucking noises as they pulled their legs out of the mud. After, it wasn’t long before Thorin decided to call an halt and wait for the rain to let up.

He had sent Fíli and Kíli ahead of the column to scout for a sheltered spot away from the rain.

Bella patted Myrtle’s neck fondly. “I don’t know about you, girl, but I am wet to the bones.”

Myrtle neighed softly in response and begun to shake all over to take the water off her coat. Bella startled, loosing her balance and fell of her saddle, landing in the mud.

All the dwarves turned to stare and soon, bursted into loud laughter.

Bella stood on wobbly knees, wiping the mud away from her face. “I’m fine, in case you were wondering!” she shouted at the dwarves.

Bofur walked up to her, smirking beneath his mustache. “Poor thing!” he helped her up.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Floppy-hat grinned, “I was talking about your clothes.”

Bella looked down at herself and slipped again, landing with her bottom in the mud, again. Dirty water splashed in her face as she made a choked, incredulous noise.

Bofur erupted in laughter. Bella shot him an angry look. Mud and water dripping from her hair to her face.

Floppy-hat rubbed a hand behind his neck. “Ah, sorry. It’s not funny.”

“No, but that is!” Bella drowned her hand deep in the mud and took a large handful, she jumped to her feet and without a warning, tossed the mudball right into Bofur’s face.

Floppy-hat stumbled backwards, a surprised noise escaped his mouth just before the mud hit his nose and nostrils.

He quickly, wiped his face from the mud. “Oh, ya little rascal!” Bofur bent to grab a handful of mud and tossed it back at her.

Quickly, Bella ducked. She saw the mud ball flying over her head and landing right into Kíli’s face.

The dark-haired dwarf choked on his mouthfull of mud, “Oh, is that so?” the lad grinned defiantly.

Soon, it began a war between Bella, Bofur and Kíli. All three of them began throwing mud-balls at each other. Fíli walked in the middle of the battle and was hit on the chest by Bofur.

“Fee, take cover!” Kíli yelled. The blond dwarf quickly went to his brother’s side. Soon, it turned out to be a two against two.

Bella, applying her Conkers’ skills, managed to knock over the mud ball Fíli was about to toss at her with one of her own. Kíli aimed at her, but she jumped aside in time, and he hit Bofur’s shoulder. The four were panting, dirty and wet to the their skins with sweat, mud and water.

In the haze of the game, Bella tossed tossed too far. The mud ball went flying above the boys’ heads... And hit Thorin Oakenshield right in the face.

Bella froze instantly. She didn’t saw him coming.

Thorin stiffened, he wiped the mud out of his face with one, angry gesture. He turned towards Bella, hair still damp and dripping with dirty water. Wet mud run down his scowling features and his jaw set angrily. His eyes were like two beacons of blue fire.

Bella flinched, holding her muddy hands in front of her, in surrender. She could feel the pointy tips of her ears burning.

Fíli and Kíli were right by her side. “Sorry, uncle!” said the eldest.

“It won’t happen again, promise!” joined the youngest. They marched Bella away, holding her by both of her arms.

It was sundown when the sky finally cleared. To west, the sky was red as an open wound, pink and golden clouds above.

When the moon had risen, just before supper, Bella stole into the bushes, next to where the ponies had been rounded uo for the night. The hot may sun had dried the forest floor enough to sleep for the night, but she was still soaking wet with mud in her hair.

“One of this days I’ll really have you boiled for glue.” She told Myrtle. The blonde filly only stared at her with her big black eyes.

Bella made a face and ventured into the trees. Amongst the bushes, she found a pond. The Hobbit squealed as she caught her reflection in the water; the girl in the reflection was a pathetic creature, auburn locks crusted with mud that curled sticking around her neck. Rivulets of dirty water ran down her face and neck, leaving brown stripes on her skin.

Bella sat on a rock, completely lost. What was she doing out there? Out of the Shire, away from home, where she had no place. Gandalf had told her that the journey ahead was still long... But where it would lead her? Bella sighed and watched the pale, distant moonlight silver the dark shapes of the forest.

Suddenly, her ears twitched at a distant sound. Her feet perceived heavy vibration through the moist earth between her toes.

Bella jumped on her feet and turned, carefully quiet. She waited.

Finally from the bushes emerged a figure. . . A figure with an axe embedded on his forehead.

“Bifur?” Bella called softly.

Bifur emerged from the bushes, stark, grey eyes wide and fixed into her green’s. He gave a grunt.

“Oh, Hullo?” She said timidly, “did the others sent you to take me back? Bofur or Balin, maybe?”

Bifur shook his head, eyes still watching hers. Only then she noticed that he was carrying something in his hands.

“What’s that?” she asked, not quite able to see, it was so dark.

Bifur gave another grunt and set what he was carrying at her feet. It was a bowl filled with water. She could see the pale scythe of the reflection of the crescent moon, glowing sinuously upon the dark ripples of the water.

Bifur handed her a cloth.

Bella took it from his hands, it was soft and warm. “For me?”

Bifur nodded, then Bowed, in a way that very much reminded her of the way he did when she met him back in Bag End.

Bella thanked him and began to clean herself of the crusted mud in her hair and face.

Bifur left her a bit of privacy. He wandered about a little farther from her, she saw him kneel in the grass, picking at something.

She scrubbed her hair, face and neck as best as she could, then, shed of her jacket and waistcoat. Her blouse was still quite damp but clean, at least. She washed her arms and legs and scrubbed her furry feet, feeling cleaner already. When she was done, the water in the bowl had turned brown and the soft cloth was completely soiled.

Bifur walked over to her. Bella held out the the dirty rag guiltily. The injuried dwarf waved a hand in a gesture that seemed to say ‘it doesn’t matter’ and Bella smiled her thanks.

Then, Bifur did something truly unexpected, he handed her a flower. It was a small, white daisy. For anyone else, it might have seemed a simple, kind gesture, but to her, a hobbit of the Shire, giving a flower was a gesture with many different meanings behind it.

And Bifur gave her a daisy. A little wildflowers that often meant friendship.

Bella gasped in surprise, “Oh, Bifur Thank you! Do you... Do you know what it means?” she asked tentatively. She was not sure dwarves knew about hobbit flower lore, but still...

Bifur gave one, firm nod.

Bella beamed up at the dwarf, holding the flower tight in her hands, “you know, I wanted to thank you for your trust. I remember, you were one of the few to bet I would turn up, that day. Along with Gandalf and Oín. You don’t know me, so why did you do it?”

Bifur simply inclined his head.

Bella felt silly. Bofur had told that he comprehends but, isn’t able to respond. A pity. She thought. It might have been her only chance to understand.

She shook her head, “No, don’t worry. It was kind from you, and I thank you. I accept your friendship gladly.”

The dwarf smiled at her. It was the first time that she saw him smiling and that had her burst into happy giggles. Apparently, Bifur liked that, for he smiled even more.

She gave a long, sigh, “Ah, I wish I could find a way to understand your signs. We could have a proper chat.”

Bifur made some grunts, words halfbitten and meaningless to her and then, one, single word; “ _Melekûnîth belkul_.”

“ _Me-melekûnith b-belkul_?” she repeated tentatively.

Bifur nodded, smiling.

Bella did not know what that word meant. She wasn’t even sure it was a word, but it was one more than she had hoped.

 

The next day fell no rain, but the sky was more grey than blue. Bella rode uncertainly. No one said a word about the mud fight of the day before, but she did not dare to look at Thorin.  

His scowl said everything without him having to speak a word, but she thought back at what he said in the forest. _‘if you had been an orc we would all be dead.’_

It wasn’t eexactly complimentary or aimed to praise, but she didn’t even know he was able to give a compliment. Thinking about it made her feel skittish and fickle. And then she had hit him with a mudball...

Recalling the mud dripping down the dwarf king’s face had burst into giggles. Many turned to stare at her as they rode.

Fíli and Kíli looked like kicked pups, Bella almost felt guilty. Bofur keep sending her rueful smiles, that Bella returned. She hoped that the poor, floppy-hatted fellow wasn’t treated too harshly for the story of the mud-balls. And lastly, Bella could not help but think about the little ‘conversation’ she had with poor Bifur. He had been so kind and even smiled at her.

The column rode quietly. The only sound that were heard were the chirping of the birds through the trees and the wet stomps of the ponies riding through the mud. That evening, Thorin called an halt in the middle of what seemed like the crumbling, wooden skeleton of a an abandoned settlement. Probably a farm. It was human-sized. Bella saw settlement like those in brief trips to Bree-town.

The crumbling farm, somehow, seemed to catch Gandalf’s attention. He dismounted his horse and walked over the wooden, twisted carcass.

Thorin sent Fíli and Kíli to look after the ponies and ordered Óin and Glóin to build a fire. He, then walked over to Gandalf.

Bella dismounted and began to unpack her things from her saddle. Minding her own business, when suddenly her pointy-ears involuntary caught Thorin and Gandalf’s conversations.

“... I have told you already, I will not go near that place.” Thorin was saying.

“Why not?” Gandalf demanded. “The elves could help us. We could get food, rest, advice.”

“I do not need their advice.” Thorin snarled.

 _Elves?_ Bella’s brow furrowed as she tended Myrtle, pretending she wasn’t listening to the exchange of words between the Grey Wizard and the King.

“We have a map that we cannot read, Lord Elrond could help us.”

“Help? A dragon attacks Erebor, what help came from the the elves? – Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls – the elves looked on and did nothing!”

Thorin’s voice was full of anger, hatred and...Grief.

“You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather...Who betrayed my father...”

“You are neither of them. I did not give you that map and key for you to hold onto the past!”

Thorin stood stiff, hands fisted at his side and, oh, if his eyes were darts Gandalf would have been striked down where he stood, “I did not know they were yours to keep!”

Bella could see with the corners of her eyes Gandalf’s features darken, as if the light around him had been sucked away.

With one last cold stare, The Wizard stormed away and marched down the hill, staff in hand and a scowl on his face, eyes gleaming in the sunlight. Thorin watched him go, his own eyes burning blue.

Bella turned toward the wizard, “Is everything alright? Gandalf, where are you going?”

The wizard stalked past her, “To seek the company of the only one around here who’s got any sense!” he muttered.

“Ah, and who’s that?”

“Myself, Miss Baggins!”

the dwarves parted before him, heads looking up and murmuring between each other. Gandalf earned some hard looks from Glóin and Dwalin, but no one tried to stop him. Sudden as a thunder, the wizard mounted on his steed and galloped off, disappearing into the forest. Bella watched him go until his robes became one small spot of grey against the green leaves.

Thorin stood still as a stone, “C’mon Bombur, we’re hungry.”

She turned to Balin next to her, “Is he coming back?”

Balin frowned and shook his head, nonplussed.

the sun was beginning to set over the trees to west and of Gandalf still no trace. Bella looked wistfully into the forest, believing that sooner or later she would spot a blue, pointy hat through the trees.  

She walked back and forth, hands crossed against her chest chewing furiously at her lower lip in the same disgusting way she used to when she was a girl.

Bofur eyed her curiously. “Calm down, lass, or you’ll end up drawing a furrow that way!”

Bella was helpless. It was a tale already told ; Gandalf gone and her waiting patiently for him to come back, as loyal as a pup. ‘Some friend you turned out to be, Gandalf!’

Did he leave her alone with thirteen dwarves that could not suffer her? Was he done with the quest? With Thorin? Well, Bella certainly could not blame him for that. As a matter of fact, she was surprised for how long the wizard had managed to be patient with the stubborn, prickly King.

She kept biting at her lip and tapping her foot frantically in the ground.

“Bella?” Bofur demanded her attention.

“What?”

“Stop that. You look like a crazy hare!”

“I – I can’t believe he did it again!” she blurted.

“What? ” Bofur asked.

“leave! Don’t think I don’t see him vanish into thin air from time to time. He has a talent for that!”

Bombur walked up to her holding two little sprigs. He held them out in front of her so she could have a proper inspection.

Bella pointed to his left hand, “This one Bombur. That’s Rosemary. The other one is just Westringia, not good for cooking."

Bombur nodded and went back to his couldron, where the stew was getting tick.

“Here,” Bofur called, “Be a lamb, darling. Hold this for a moment.” He handed her a couple of bowl and filled them with hot, thick stew.

“He’s been a long time... ” She said worried. Still searching into the trees.

“Who?” Bofur said as he filled.

Bella rolled her eyes, “Gandalf.”

“Ah, he’s a wizard he does as he chooses. Don’t you worry your pretty, little mind. I’m sure he’ll be back by the morrow.” Bofur said as he finished with the first bowl and began with the second.

Bella huffed out a laugh, “huh! You don’t know him like I do.” She then remembered what Gandalf said earlier.

“Listen...what do you know about the elves?” she asked suddenly.

Bofur and Bombur turned instantly toward her, staring as if she’d just spoke a curse. “Ya better not let the lads hear you, Bella.” Bofur warned quite serious, “Dwarves don’t get along well with those pointy-eared folks.”

“Pointy-eared folks...” she whispered to herself. “and why you don’t get along?”

Floppy-hat looked like she had asked a really stupid question. “We just don’t. Wars, battles, broken oaths. It’s always been like that, since the first age.”

“Oh.” Bella turned towards the forest, looking wistfully into the trees. “It must be exhausting holding such a grudge.”

Bofur looked closely at her and smiled. “Aye, of that I am sure. Now, here. Do us a favor, take these to the lads.” He turned toward the cauldron, where Bombur was bent swallowing a large spoonful of stew, “Stop that! You’ve had a plenty!”

 

Bella wandered absently toward the trees where Fíli and Kíli rounded up the ponies for the night. Bowls of hot, thick stew in hand, she went through the bushes, thinking of Bofur’s words, of Gandalf and Thorin and what they spoke of earlier.

Finally, she found Fíli and Kíli found the brothers standing not farther from her. “here.” She said standing between them. When the lads didn’t took the bowls, she looked up, “what’s the matter?”

“We’re supposed to be looking after the ponies.” Kíli told her, keeping his gaze fixed in front of him.

“Only, We’ve encountered... A slight problem.” Fíli said, looking worried.

“We had sixteen...” The younger brother began.

“...Now There’s fourteen.” The eldest finished.

The brothers searched the forest, Bella swept after them, bowls still in her hands, careful no to let the stew dripping out of the bowls.

Myrtle was grazing peacefully. The spare ponies, Jam and Peanut butter were fine as were the brother’s ponies; Toast and Quicksilver. The Ur’s ponies were there, Buttercup and Bofur’s mount; lucky jack... Only Bungle was missing.

Minty was with the others and Bandit and Maggie as well. Ebony and RedMarple, Oín and Glóin’s. Bandit and Maggie were safe too. Nori and Dori’s. But Daisy was not there.

“Daisy and Bungle are missing!” Kíli said.

“Well, that’s not good,” Bella said, snorting out a nervous laugh, “That is not good at all!” She bit her lip bloody, “should- shouldn’t we tell Thorin?”

The brothers turned to her, perplexed. They shared a look, “Ahhh- no. Let’s no worry him.” Fíli told her, “As our official Burglar, we thought. . . You might like to look into it?”

Bella thought about that for moment. “Couldn’t they just jave escaped on their own?”

“No. We bedded them down and secured the ropes to the trees.” Fíli explained, “Horses are gregarious animals, should two of them had escaped, the others would have followed.”

“Someone must have took them.” Kíli said.

Cold fingers ran down her spine, “ _Someone_?!”

“Or something...”

Orcs. Was her first thought. She looked around her, there were trunks and branches of trees scattered all over the forest ground. “Ah.. Well.. It looks like something big abluted these trees...” she declared, pointing with the bowls she still held in her hands.

“That was our thinking.” Kíli said hurriedly.

“Something very big. . . And possibly quite dangerous.” She went on. The hair behind her neck shot up at the thought. “We really should tell Thorin!”

Fíli suddenly stilled, “Hey! There’s a light. Over there!” he said gazing off into the depths of the forest.

He gestured for her to follow him. Kíli quickly jumped at his brother’s side. They took cover behind one of the abluted trees.

“Stay down!” the blond dwarf urged her to kneel between him and his brother into the bushes. A red, threatening light flickered through the trees. It seemed the light of a campfire. Suddenly from the forest echoed a guttural laugh of a deep voice.

It was enough to make Bella tremble with terror, “what is it?” she asked, shaking enough to spill the stew in the bowl still in her hands.

“Trolls.” Kíli said firmly.

“You shut your damn mouth!” shot out of hers before she could stop it.

The brothers turned to her, bewildered.

Bella shook her head violently, “Uh-huh! You two already fooled me with the story of the orcs. I won’t fall for it this time!”

The brothers looked at each other and shared one, firm nod.The lads leaped over the wood and ran toward the light.

“No, wait!” too late. The lads were already out of sight, beyond the bushes.

Oh, she was in for it, now! And with Gandalf’s gone... Bella cursed under her breath then leaped to follow the princes...She then, remembered about the bowls and went back to get them. Bella ran. She was panting and huffing when she caught again sight of the lads, and then she saw it.

He came smashing through the bushes and the branches, big he was, ugly and fleshy. With a tick, plump yellowish hide. Bella almost dropped the bowls from fear, she jumped behind a tree, still as a stone, making no sound. She heard heavy snorts and distressed neighs. Bella peeked at the creature through the trees; he was carrying two ponies under each arm. And one of them was Myrtle!

“He’s got Myrtle and Minty!” Bella blurted, horrified. “I think he’s going to eat them, we got to do something!”

The boys’ heads shot toward her, “Yes! You should!” Kíli whispered as he stood and grabbed one of the now, cold bowls of stew from her hands. “Mountain trolls are sooo slow and stupid and you are sooo smol, they will never see you!”

Bella was nonplussed, “What? Me? Me? No! No, no, no, no!”

Kíli went on, “It is perfectly safe! – we will be right behind you!”

The lads completely ignored her protests.

Fíli wrapped a hand around her shoulders and reached from the second bowl, taking it from her fingers, “We’ll be right behind you.” The blond dwarf echoed, “If you run into trouble hoot twice like a barn owl, once like a brown owl.”

He pushed her out of the bushes, “Right! Got it! Twice like a brown...no, once like a brown- once like a barn... Are you sure this is a good idea?” when Bella turned, the brothers were gone.

“Fíli? Kíli...? Boys!”

No answer.

“Stricklebacks! Yavanna help me, I am going to die!”

As quiet as possible, Bella crept around the trees, the flickering light of the fire felt brighter and brighter as she came closer. Even the laughter was louder, now. Quick on the balls of her feet she lurked beyond the bushes and saw.

There were three of them, all three big, monstrous and ugly. They were gathered around a great fire, a huge, black cauldron was boiling above it.

The scent that reeked from it almost turned her loose to vomit. Behind the three enormous trolls, there they were!

The missing ponies had been rounded up and tied to the branches of a fallen tree.

Bella gathered up her courage and crept closer.

“Mutton yesterday, mutton today. And blimey, if it don’t look like mutton again tomorrow!” muttered one of the trolls.

The stench that came from that cauldron hit her nostrils. She ducked and crawled closer on all four, careful to remain hidden, hoping the trolls won’t catch her scent or the frantic, drumming of her beating heart.

“Quit your griping. These ain’t sheep! These is West nags!” a second troll answered.

The ponies did caught her scent, though. The tiny horses flared their nostrils and raised their ears as they felt her approach. The poor darlings, they had huge, crazed eyes and were snorting, mad from fear. Some of them began to neigh in something like relief as they recognized her.

“Sshhh! Hush, my darlings. I’m going to get you out of here!” Bella

“Oh! I don’t like horse. I never have. Not enough fat on them”

“Well, it’s better than a leathery ol’ farmer. All skin and bone he was. I’m still pickin’ bits of him out o’ me teeth.”

Bella stopped in her tracks, horrorstruck. So, that’s what happened at the farm! That’s why Gandalf seemed so wary around the abandoned settlement. Thanks Yavanna, the trolls seemed more interested in arguing with each other instead of paying attention to the ponies.

Carefully, Bella reached out and tried to free Myrtle, but the ties were too tight. She tried and tried but, nothing to be done, and the ponies begun to become uneasy. She shot a quick peek at the trolls as she fought with the ties.

Suddenly, the moon shined upon a long, pointy object. One of the trolls was carrying a knife! She held her breath, trying to calm her fluttering heart as she crept closer and closer to the three unaware orcs.

“... Ooh. That is beautifully balanced, that is. Wrap your loganbie around that, mate.”

Bella was almost there. She was so close she could sniff the disgusting reek of the flesh of the troll. She reached out and aimed for his belt...

...And the troll stood suddenly, “Me guts are grumbling, I’ve got to snaffle something. Flesh. I need flesh!”

Bella ducked quickly, hands flying on her mouth to prevent a moan of terror to escape. She looked up and turned he head away in disgust. The troll’s bollocks were even uglier than his face!

She took another breath and, perhaps dizzy of the stench for the cauldron of from the fear, decided to make a run for it. Above, the still somehow unaware troll was begging to start to sneeze.

He reached out one, hideous arm and grabbed behind him.... He clasped Bella so tight she could scarcely scream. The troll, thinking she was some sort of handkerchief, crashed Bella against his snout hard and blew his nose with her!

“Aah! Blimey! Bert! Bert! Look what’s come out of me hooter! It’s got arms and legs and everything!” the troll cried.

The other two stood to see what was going on, “What is it?”One of them asked as he looked down on Bella.

“I don’t know, but I don’t like the way it wriggles around!” the troll tossed her on the ground.

Bella landed with a ‘huff’ that took her breath away. She was completely covered in troll’s snot, from head to toe!

She didn’t had the time to find that disgusting. Bella jumped to her feet and attempted to run but, the three trolls cornered her, preventing her from escape.

“What are you then? An oversized squirrel?” one of them asked, the one that stole the ponies, she guessed, he held out a huge knife toward her.

“I’m a burglar…uh, Hobbit!” Bella said the first thing that came to mind, she quivered so.

“A _Burrhobbit_?” exclaimed the troll that used her as an handkerchief.

“Can we cook her??” the third wanted to know.

“We can try!” the troll reached out one, huge arm and tried to grab her, but Bella was quicker.

As the troll moved, she moved. Bella sprinted left. She spun around him and by the time he got himself turned, Bella was darting away, toward the bushes.

But, one of the trolls, the biggest, Bert she guessed, came up beside her, “She wouldn’t make more than a mouthful. Not when she’s skinned and boned!” he gave her a push.

“Perhaps there’s more burglar-hobbits ’round these parts, might be enough for a pie!” the second troll reached for her but, Bella ducked quickly and jumped up and about.

“Grab her!”

“She’s too quick!”

“Oah, come here! You little…”

Bella tried once more to make a run for it, heart fluttering in her chest, but one of the trolls managed to grab her by the legs, “Gotcha! Are there any more of you little fellas hiding where you shouldn’t?”

“No!” Bella was almost breathless from fear.

“She’s lying!”

“I’m not!” she tried to squirm away but, not to avail.

“Hold her toes over the fire. Make her squeal!”

Bella screamed with all the breath she had left in her body.

Suddenly, from the trees emerged Kíli, sword in hand. He striked one of the trolls, making him screech in pain, “Drop her!” her shouted.

The other two looked confused, “You what?”

“I said, drop her!” Kíli repeated upside down.

The troll that held her smirked, displaying a set of yellow, crocked teeth, still upside down, “Oh? Down you go, then!”

Bella realized what was going to happen a moment too late, “No! Kíli Don’t-”

The troll tossed her at Kíli. The lad bolted, opening his arms, catching her safe but dropping his sword in the process. Bella landed on top of him, sending the both of them rolling on the ground.

In the blink of an eye, Thorin Oakenshield came charging from the trees, sword in hand and shouting. The dwarves came after him, wielding their weapons.

Kíli disentangled himself from her, grabbed his sword and jumped to his feet, following the others.

“Dwarves!” the trolls yelled.

Bella found herself in the middle the battle, the sounds of swords and daggers cutting flash and clubs and hammer smashing bones, rang in her ears, making her head throb, or perhaps was it for the fall? She heard shouts, the pounding footsteps of the trolls and the distressed neighs of the ponies. She dropped and rolled. The trolls were stumbling and staggering above her, they clumsily reached around her to grab the Dwarves. Bella jumped up and about, finally wiping the snot away from her face. She still had a job to do.

Quick as a cat – and before her remaining wits urged her to come to her senses – she darted into the battle, sprinting through the the dwarves.

Bofur saw her and came up beside her, swinging a muttock, “Bella, run!” he urged her, but she had to get to the ponies.

Suddenly one of the trolls tried to grab her, but something hit his forehead, catching his attention. Bella turned and saw Ori aiming at the troll with a slingshot. The troll grabbed the young dwarf by the arms and pulled him out from the ground. The lad squealed and Bella yelped.

In the blink of an eye, Dwalin curled himself up into a tight ball and rolled on the ground. Instantly, Thorin came out of nowhere, and jumped onto Dwalin’s back. The bald warrior pushed up Thorin’s weight, allowing him to leap into the air and slash the arm of the troll that jerked back bursting into screeches. Ori landed on the ground but promptly bolted to his feet, slingshot ready in hand.

By the time she reached the ponies, Bella was out of breath, her heart like a drum. She reached for the knife, gathering her remaining wits. She made a quick work on the ropes, the huge knife was not a fine one but, it was sharp. Once all the ponies were free she raised her hands and made some noises to get them to run away, out of danger.

“RUN! YOU’RE FREE, RUN AWAY!!!”

What she didn’t know was, that while the battle was still going on behind her, she had cought someone’s attention. His hands grabbed her tight, before she could do something to avoid it, it took her breath away. Two of them held her above their heads, each clasping one arm and leg. Bella didn’t dare to move for fear they would have ripped her apart, they were clasping her so tight.

Below, Thorin stopped in his tracks, sword raised, poised to strike, he turned instantly and raised his head. His eyes widened in surprise and his jaw set. Soon enough, the others too ceased their fighting and looked up at the trolls holding Bella like some flag of victory.

The dwarves gasped and growled at the sight. Kíli’s eyebrows shot up, “Bella!”

 the lad tried to run to her, already swinging his sword, but Thorin put a grounding, heavy arm on him, stopping him, “No!”

One of the trolls clasped tighter, “Lay down your arms! Or we’ll rip hers off!” he bellowed.

Bella saw Thorin shift his gaze from the trolls to her. The dwarf King looked at her right in the eyes. It was over. Bella waited patiently for Thorin to refuse. She expected to feel her arms and legs being ripped off from her body. With one last pleading look at Thorin, hot tears running down her cheeks, she closed her eyes and waited.

She heard the thud a sword being violently dropped on the ground.

She opened her eyes, it was Thorin’s sword. The other dwarves followed suit and yielded.

 

The trolls tied up some of the dwarves on a huge spit placed over the fire. The others were held in huge bags that were tied up to their necks.

Bella was tied for last. The troll held the bag above his head, looking at her closely, “Thanks for the supper, Missus!” he tossed her on the ground between the others.

She landed right on top of Thorin with her head on his chest. He groaned and shook her off of him until she went rolling on the ground.

Bella heard the dwarves tied on the spit give the trolls curses and threats, next to her, Balin, Thorin, Fíli, Kíli, Óin, Glóin and Bombur were struggling trying to wriggle out of the bags.

“Don’t bother cooking ’em! Let’s just sit on ’em and squash ’em into jelly!” the troll that was spinning the spit suggested.

“They should be sauteed and grilled with a sprinkle of sage.” The troll cook protested

“Oh, that does sound quite nice!” the third agreed.

“Never mind the seasoning, we ain’t got all night! Dawn ain’t far away, let’s get a move on! I don’t fancy been turned to stone.”

Bella froze in realization. She jumped to her feet, careful not to stumble about, she was tied so. “Wait! You are making a terrible mistake.” She jumped in front of the trolls.

“You can’t reason with them, they’re half-wits!” Dori yelled from the spit.

“Half-wits? What does that make us?” That was Bofur.

Bella ignored them and focused on a plan, “I meant with the…uh, with the…with the seasoning.”

“What about the seasoning?” the cook wanted to know as he bent to look down at her.

“Well, have you smelt them? You’re going to need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up!” she said as she tried to appear calm and confident like someone who really knew what she was talking about.

The dwarves piled up behind her protested fiercely at that. ‘Traitor!’ shot out of Thorin’s mouth but, she was too busy to let that bother her, now.

“What do you know about cooking dwarf?” one of trolls asked suspicious

Bella straighted up her spine, “huh! And for what else should I put this lot to use, eh? As my good ol’ pops used to say; dwarves ain’t good if not to cook!” she said, trying to bring up the act for as long as she could.

Bella heard angry mutters from behind her and from the spinning spit.

Two of the troll began to protest but, the cook hushed them, “Shut up, and let the…uh, _flurgerburbur-hobbit_ talk.”

Bella forced herself to smile, “Uh…the-the secret to cooking dwarf, is um…” she trailed off, not knowing how to go on.

“Yes? Come on.”

Bella hesitated, “It’s, uh…”

The trolls began to lose their patience, “Tell us the secret!”

Bella narrowed her eyes at him, “Ye-yes, I’m telling you! The secret is…to…skin them first!”

At that all the dwarves began to shout at her in anger.

“I’ll get you! You little traitor!” Glóin threatened her.

“I won’t forget that! I won’t forget that!” Dwalin yelled as he spun on the spit.

The troll cook, on the other hand, seemed enthusiastic, “Tom, get me filleting knife.”

“What a load of rubbish! I’ve eaten plenty with their skins on. Scoff ’em I say, boots and all!” one of the other two protested.

Bella began to open her mouth to argue back, but, suddenly, she noticed a small, grey spot between the trees, behind the trolls... A small, grey spot with a blue, pointy hat.

She almost screamed from joy, relief stinging under her skin.

“He’s right! Nothing wrong with a bit o’ raw dwarf.” The third agree. He reached out and picked up Bombur in his sack, holding him above is head, determined to swallow him hole, “Nice and crunchy.” He licked his lips and opened his mouth...

“Uh…not…not that one, he…he’s infected!” Bella said in a sudden rush.

Silence fell, except for the crackling fire. The trolls turned to look at her, “You what?”

Bella needed to think quick, “Yeah he’s got worms in his…tubes..?”

The troll that was holding Bombur flynched back in disgust, “Ooh!” he dropped the poor fellow back into the pile, right on top of Óin and Glóin.

“In-in fact, they all have. They’re infested with parasites, it’s a terrible business, I wouldn’t risk it, I really wouldn’t.”

Instantly, the dwarves begun to mutter in protest, “Parasites? Did she say parasites?” Óin asked, without his hearing trumpet.

“Yeah, we don’t have parasites!” Kíli argued, “You have parasites!”

Bella rolled her eyes, exasperated. She shot them a pleading look, hoping they would understand her attempt to buy them time until dawn.

Glóin, Óin, and Kíli were still muttering their protest when Thorin suddenly met her eyes, only for a brief moment. Bella hoped her eyes could tell him what she couldn’t with spoken word.

Thorin’s eyes set like burnings coals. He understood everything. The dwarf king kicked his nephew through his bag. Instantly, the mutters ceased and the dwarves turned to look at their king. Thorin eyed them firmly.

“I’ve got parasites as big as my arm!” Óin now was yelling

“Mine are the biggest parasites, I’ve got huge parasites!” Kíli joined.

“We’re riddled!” Nori’s voice came from the spit as he spun.

“Yes, I’m riddled!” Ori agreed.

“Yes, we are, badly!” Dori declared loudly.

The troll bent toward her “What would you have us do then? Let ’em all go?”

Bella pretended to think about it, “Well…”

One of the trolls narrowed his eyes at her, “You think I don’t know what you’re up to. This little ferret is taking us for fools!” he poked her with one huge, fat finger almost sending her stumbling backwards.

“Ferret?!”

“Fools?!”

In that moment, Gandalf emerged from the trees, climbing upon a stoney cliff, “The dawn will take you all!” The wizard bellowed with a thunderous voice.

The three trolls turned to stare, “Who’s that?”

“No idea.”

“Can we eat him too?”

Gandalf raised his wooden staff and slammed it hard down, breaking the cliff he was standing on, letting in the rising sunlight.

The three trolls screeched and screamed, freezing in place as their bloated, yellowish skin turned into cold stone, leaving only three tall, grotesque statues behind.

Bella stared in amazement. Behind her, all the dwarves began to laugh with joy.

“Ooh, get your foot out of my back!” Dwalin cried,still tied to the spinning spit.

After Gandalf helped her out of her bag, Bella released the poor dwarves still hanging on the spit. She quickly cut the ropes, freeing the Ur’s. Bombur and Bifur helped the other while Gandalf tended to the dwarves still tied in the sacks.

They picked up their weapons and their clothes, as the trolls had them stripped to their undergarments before they tied them up to the spit.

Bofur picked up his floppy hat and ran toward her, “Bella!” he cried as he embraced her. Bella returned the hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, happy to be alive.

He pulled away to look at her, “You alright lass? Gosh! We thought you were a goner.” He touched her cheek gently.

Bella huffed out a breath, “for a moment, I thought it as well!”

Bofur touched her elbow, “Bella, your arms. . .”

Bella glanced down ad saw her forearms completely bruised where the trolls had held her. Her legs were not any better.

She swallowed hard, “I-I’m fine.”

Bofur looked worried, “We didn’t know what to think when the lads told us you stepped into a Troll lair, lass. What happened?”

“Thats exactly what I want to know.” A deep voice rumbled at her back.

Bella turned, Thorin Oakenshield stood behind her, blue eyes blazing with anger.

She hesitated, “I-I. . . The trolls. . .”

The dwarf King set his jaw angrily, “What were you thinking?!” he shouted so loud the other dwarves turned to stare.

Bella flinched, “I only wanted to get the ponies back. I-”

Thorin could not care less to hear her explanation. He loomed over her, anger blazing in his eyes “ You almost got all of us killed!”

Bella’s voice caught in her throat.

Gandalf stepped up beside her, frowning, “Thorin, it’s over. It was a nasty business. Still, you are all in one piece.”

Thorin narrowed his eyes at the wizard, “Not thanks to your Burglar.”

Gandalf shot the Dwarf King a scolding look, “She had the wits to play for time. None of the rest of you thought of that.”

At that, Thorin lowered his eyes. Then, his anger came flaring back, “She wouldn’t have had need to play for time if she didn’t got herself in trouble in the first place!”

Bella raised her had and saw all the Dwarves were looking at her. She noticed Fíli and Kíli amongst the others, looking uneasy.

Fíli stepped up, uncertaintly, “Thorin... I- Kíli and I... “

“- They...Told me not to go!” she cut in.

All the dwarves and Gandalf turned their heads toward her in bewilderment. Even the grey Troll-statues looming above seemed to stare.

Gandalf raised one, bushy brow, “Bella...”

Bella ignored him and focused on Thorin. She stepped out, face inches from the King’s, “Two of the ponies were missing. Fíli and Kíli told me to stay behind, to come back to the others and warn you that something was wrong... But I didn’t listen.”

“We spotted a light and I wanted to prove myself as a Burglar. The lads urged me to go back, but I stepped away before they could stop me. It’s all my fault.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, that was an heck of a chapter! 30 pages!
> 
> Anyway, it's god to back! I'll plan to post the following chapters concerning Rivendell shortly, since it's were I left you hanging with the original fic and I'm impatient to go on!
> 
> Having said that, as always, I hoped you loved this chapter! Feel free to comment and thank you for your lovely kudos!
> 
> See you next time, darlings! <3


	7. Rivendell

Thorin sent Bifur and Ori to look for the ponies after Bella had pointed where she saw them run off, away from the trolls. She hoped they would find her beloved filly and the others, whenever they went.

_‘Oh, myrtle, where are you, you willful nag?’_

Bella sat on a rock, defiantly jerking her chin away at the cold stares that were sent in her direction. The dwarves were murmuring darkly to themselves, lips pushed foward and brows furrowed as they waddled around.

Oín was examining the bruises on her arms and legs, squeezing her tender flesh a little too much.

“ _Ouch_!”

“Don’t ye squirm, lassie! Are ye a wee bairn?!”

“I’m not!” She replied rather childishly. “Stop treating me like one!”

“Then, dinnae act like one, Aye?!”

Bella nodded, still defiant.

“Nasty business.” The healer said, curiously quiet, “Nothing broken, at least. The bruises should heal soon enough.”

Not farther from them, Bella saw Gandalf talking quietly with Thorin. Together, they gathered Dwalin, Glóin, Nori and even Bofur, to her great displeasure. Taking some of the weapons with them, they headed into the forest.

Thorin caught Bella’s eyes briefly. Quickly, he withdrawn his and disappeared into the tree with his lot and Gandalf behind him.

Oín looked at her, “Cheer up, lassie! Not everyone is lucky enough to step in on three Trolls and live to tell the tale. ”

“But we lost the ponies.”

“Aye, but Ori and Bifur will find those numpty nags. Dinnae worry.”

Bella felt no better, but nodded anyway.

“Parasites in the tubes!” Oín exclaimed, “How did ye come up with that?” he walked away sniggering under his beard.

Bella sat alone, looking curiously up at the three looming statues of the Trolls. She barely made it out alive, trying foolishly to prove herself saving the ponies, gaining only cold stares and nasty bruises in return.

Taking the blame – though fairly, for she was partially responsible for the whole nasty business, and her own deeds had been reckless – had awakened some rebellious anger Bella had never felt before.

Only thinking back of the whole affair made her blood boil. Thorin Oakenshield had considered her a burden ever since she had signed that wretched contract, and now - after she told the tale of how she had the idea of stepping into three Trolls, losing the ponies and almost getting everyone killed in the process - Bella saw no reason why he would change his opinion.

The boys protested fiercely. When everyone were busy, Fíli and Kíli turned to her, ashamed. They asked the reason why she took the blame and wanted to tell Thorin the truth.

To be fair, she wasn’t quite sure why she lied. Out of spite? out of anger? Mischief?

Despite the princes’ stubborn oppositions, Bella eventually swore them to silence, making the vow not to say a word.

She couldn’t fix her deeds at the Trolls’ lair, nor she wished to. Besides, she had walked into it out of her own free will – and also out of her wits – so, why not make the most of it?

She had to admit, seeing the dwarf King’s stern face crumble in anger, had given her a wicked pleasure.

There was something in Thorin’s indifference that irritated her greatly. She always felt fickle and skittish around him, as if his infamous temper and moods were something that needed to be worked against.

Never before someone had angered her more than the prickly ‘majestic idiot’. Not even the Sackville-Baggginses. Not even her childhood friend, Lobelia.

But she did not do it out spite only... There was something else, there. Something that she still couldn’t quite understand.

She sat there, massaging her hurting feet, sending weak smiles to the dwarf princes. After she made them promise not to say a word, Fíli and Kíli silently resigned, though reluctantly and couldn’t quite meet her eyes.

After, it wasn’t long before Thorin’s small party returned... And not empty handed.

The dwarves were carrying sacks and caskets and even some weapons. She saw Thorin carrying a new, long sword on his back.

In one of the books she had read there were mentioned many mighty weapons. enough for her to recognize some of them; the sword Thorin was carrying was a single-hedged blade with a rather peculiar pommel. The grip was made of what appeared to be a long, sharp tooth clasped in metal. She could not get a closer look, but she was sure it was a beautiful thing.

Amongst the others, Bella saw Bofur approaching her with a large sack on his shoulders and a big smile on his face.

“Where in Middle-Earth did you found all this?” she asked the Floppy-hatted fellow.

“It was a Troll-hoard, down in a cave. Oh, the stench that reeked from there, lassie! Ya can’t imagine!”

“A hoard? And what did you found down there?”

“Gold! Those half-wits had entire coffers!”

“And where is it?”

“Ah, we’ve buried it, of course!”

Bella was confused, “Why?”

“T’was a shame leaving it there, lyin’ around, rottin’ in the dirt. Anyone could’ve take it, lass!”

And with that, Bofur walked off. Happily sharing his pick with his brother and cousin.

“Bella.” Gandalf’s voice called behind her.

“Hm?” Bella turned toward the wizard.

“Here.” He said as he presented her with an unexpected tool, “This is about your size.”

Bella took the short sword from the wizard’s hands. It was leaf-shaped with gentle, curved edges. Bella gaped at it in wonder. It was beautiful. In her childhood, she had dreamed of owning a weapon like that.

But she wasn’t a child anymore.

Bella sighed. “I can’t take this.”

Gandalf was taking none of it, “The blade is of Elvish make, which means it will glow blue when orcs or goblins are nearby.” He told, ignoring her protests, “I should never have let you on the road unarmed. I am afraid here begins the part of our journey where you are going to need this, my dear girl.”

“I have…I have never used a sword in my life.” She replied helplessly.

“And I hope you never have to. But if you do, remember this: true courage is about knowing not when to take a life, but when to spare one.”

Bella thought about that. She thought about Thorin’s deeds with the Trolls... He could’ve let them rip her apart, but he yielded, risking his own life to save hers.

Suddenly, all that anger she felt before was gone.

Bella opened her mouth to speak, but her ears twitched suddenly at a distant sound. Something was approaching.

The dwarves had sensed it as well. “Something’s coming!” Thorin drew his long sword.

The others bolted to their feet, weapons in hands as they gathered close, poised to strike.

It made her tremble deep inside, “Gandalf...” She pleaded.

Gandalf drew his own blade, “Stay together! Hurry, now! Arm yourselves!”

Bella could nothing but follow them. Not knowing where else to hung her new sword she put it in her breeches and leaped to follow the others.

They gathered into the bushes, waiting. Fíli came to stand before her, “Bella, come closer. Stay down.” He drawed her to stand between him and his brother. Kíli smirked, “Don’t worry, Bella. We’ll protect you.”

They waited patiently into the bushes, tense in coiled anticipation. The sounds from the forest were lauder, now.

All of a Sudden, from the bushes bursted at a great speed a sleigh pulled by, at least what appeared as fifteen giant rabbits as big as dogs. The dwarves jumper aside as the sled cut through the bushes.

The driver was an old, small man clad in rough, brown robes. He had a big floppy hat, like Bofur’s. His beard was mouse-grey, coarse and unkempt, just like his hair. A good amount of what appeared to be excrements striped his head.

The odd man reined up before them “Thieves! Fire! Murder!” he cried convulsing.

“Radagast!” Gandalf exclaimed as he put away his sword. “It’s Radagast the Brown!”

Bella was nonplussed. That was the Brown Wizard Radagast?

Well, certainly he was brown. As suggested his brown clothing... And the dryed up bird excrements crusted into his coarse, brown hair. The sleigh he was leading was far too extravagant even for Gandalf, and he had a twisted staff very similar to his fellow Wizard.

The odd man’s eyes fell on her, “Oh. Hello young Hobbit!” he observed her curiously, “Long has passed since I last gazed upon an Halfling of the Shire... You have auburn hair, so rare amongst your folk... Are you... A _Fallohide_ , perhaps?”

Bofur frowned at the odd man, “Oi! Watch your mouth, fellow!”

“No, Bofur.”Bella put a grounding hand on the miner’s shoulder, “It’s not an insult. A _Fallohide_ is a race of Hobbits.” She turned to address the brown wizard, “Partly, from my mother’s side. From my father’s, I’m a _Harfoot_.”

The brown wizard seemed pleased by her answer. “I didn’t know of Hobbits venturing so far from their lands. What is your name, young lady?”

Gandalf stepped up to his fellow wizard, “Radagast, This is Belladonna Baggins of the Shire and this is the Company of Thorin Oakenshield.”

Thorin and the others inclined their heads at the brown wizard, though a little suspicious.

Gandalf turned to the brown wizard, “What on earth are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you, Gandalf. Something’s wrong. Something’s terribly wrong.”

Gandalf stepped closer, “Yes?”

Radagast opened his mouth to speak, but stopped suddenly, “Just give me a minute. Um…Oh! I had a thought and now I’ve lost it. It was…it was was right there, on the tip of my tongue! Oh! It’s not a thought at all! It’s a silly old… stick insect.”

Radagast the Brown sticked his tongue out. Gandalf removed an actual stick insect ad gave it back to its legitimate owner.

The dwarves shared confused looks, huffing out grunts of perplexed disbelief. Bella stared nonplussed at the curious sight.

Gandalf led Radagast apart from the dwarves, earning a suspicious look from Thorin, but he voiced no opposition.

The Company sat in the bushes as the two wizard spoke privately. Bella wanderered curiously around Radagast’s huge rabbits. There were twenty pulling his sleigh. She had counted them. Bella carefully reached out a hand and petted the lovely creatures, ignoring the protests and warnings of the others. She found, to her delight the the rabbits were gentle and intelligent creatures as they nuzzled into her hand, sniffing curiously.

“They’ll bite your hands off, lass!” Glóin warned from a distance.

She ignored him. The rabbits couldn’t certainly be worst than the Trolls.

One of them kept sniffing into her jacket insistently. “Oh? You must have smelt my berries.” She took the waterskin she had filled with wild berries and fed them to the rabbits.

Quite unexpectedly, one of the animals came closer, it was carrying a little, raggedy pouch in its mouth. The curious rabbit laid the small bag by her feet.

There were mushrooms in there. Not the plump, white mushrooms she used for cooking, these were big, grey mushrooms of a kind she had never seen before.

“Oh. Thank you?”Confused, she took the small gift and walked away, saying nothing.

Without knowing, Bella had wandered a little too close to the two wizards amongst the bushes. She stopped in her tracks and turned to walk back to the others, but then she heard what Radagast was telling Gandalf.

“...The Greenwood is sick, Gandalf. A darkness has fallen over it, nothing grows anymore. At least nothing good. The air is foul decay, but worse are the webs.” The brown wizard was saying.

“Webs? What do you mean?”

“Spiders, Gandalf. Giant ones. Some kind of spawn of Ungoliant, or I’m not a wizard. I followed their trail. They came from Dol Guldur.”

“Dol Guldur? But the old fortress is abandoned.”

“No, Gandalf. It is not...A dark power dwells in there, such as I have never felt before. It is the shadow of an ancient horror. One that can summon the spirits of the dead. . . I saw him, Gandalf. From out of the darkness...”

A hand touched her shoulder and Bella jumped aside, startled, letting out a tiny gasp of surprise.

Bofur raised his hands in surrender, his pipe almost falling from his mouth. “Whoa, there! It’s alright, lassie, it’s just me. Harmless, ol’ Bofur.” He looked at her closely, “You alright, Bella? You look unwell.”

“No, it’s alright.” Bella replied hurriedly, sitting on a stump of a tree nearby. Bofur looked at her face and handed her his pipe. She took it gratefully and inhaled deeply, blowing out a long ribbon of smoke.

Floppy-hat shuffled his feet, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck, “You have been brave earlier, Bella. Y’know that?”

“Brave?” she almost wanted to laugh, “I nearly had us killed!”

“But it didn’t happened. You saved us, you saved my brother.”

Bella sighed, “That’s not what the others think.”

“Maybe, but it’s what _I_ think.”

Bella looked up at the miner. “Bofur, I... “

An unwordly howl cut to the trees, threateningly close.

Bella jumped on her feet, ears alert, “Was that a wolf? Are there…are there wolves out there?”

She looked around, the dwarves had jumped too. They all tensed. Waiting.

Bofur shook his head ayes shifting around him, “Wolves? No, that is not a wolf...”

A low growl came from the bushes, closer still...

It came stalking through the bushes. It was big. Bigger that any wolf she had ever seen. Black as the night, jaw set and teeth ready to bite.

She felt a cold shiver run down her spine as her voice caught in her throat. Bella stared up at the giant beast as it leaped down the hill, aiming for their throats...

Thorin’s sword fell down on the beast’s back slashing it almost to the bone, making it scream in pain. When Thorin freed his sword from the beast’s body, blood spattered on his face. He slashed once again and the beast dropped with one last screech.

“Warg scouts! Which means an orc pack is not far behind!”

“Orc pack?!” Bella cried, trembling as she stared at the creature’s carcass. Blood was pooling on the ground, reddening the grass. The metallic stench hit her nostrils, almost turning her loose to vomit.

Gandalf stalked towards Thorin, towering above him. “Who did you tell about your quest, beyond your kin?!” he shouted.

Thorin was unmoving, “No one.”

Gandalf scowled, “Who did you tell?!”

“No one, I swear! What in Durin’s name is going on?”

Other howls cut through the trees.

Gandalf shot the dwarf King a dark look “You are being hunted.”

Dwalin came up beside Thorin, wielding his axe, “We have to get out of here.”

In that moment Ori and Bifur came rushing from the bushes, “We can’t! We have no ponies. They bolted.”

The brown wizard Radagast stepped up “I’ll draw them off.”

“These are Gundabad wargs. They will outrun you!” Gandalf tilde him.

“And these are Rhosgobel rabbits. I’d like to see them try.”

 

After, Bella could scarcely recall the events clearly in her mind. She remembered the run accross the forest until they reached a vast plain. She remembered Radagast’s sleigh, as he darted away and then, the orcs.

Dreadful creatures, with sallow skin and sharp fangs, almost man-big, but they looked bigger riding those beasts... Wargs, Gandalf called them.

Bella remembered glimpsing them from a distance, as she escaped with the Company. She remembered her lungs burning with exhaustion, remembered Bofur and Bifur tugging at her sleeves, pulling and pushing her foward, urging her to run.

Then, the howls and that awful speech. Almost snarled, almost bitten. They hid behind rocks as Radagast provided cover, driving the orcs away. But, their wargs must’ve caught their scent. At Thorin’s silent command, Kíli shoot one of the Wargs with one of his arrows. As the beast went stumbling to the gound, it’s rider went stumbling too. When the Orc came charging with his dagger, snapping his sharp fangs, Bifur and Dwalin took him down before he could get any closer.

Blood flooded hot and thick and reeking enough to tear a cry of panic from her throat.

Before she had the time to catch her breath, black, beastly silhouettes swarmed in the distant horizon, stalking closer and closer. Gandalf urged them on, and there they went, on the run again as howls and screams echoed all around.

For near two hours they ran and wheeled and circled and slashed as the Orcs on their Wargs came closer, but by then, the whole pack had surrounded them completely. Bella remembered turning around and seeing that Gandalf was gone.

The dwarves noticed too, and when the seemed be no way out, the Grey Wizard emerged from the rocks, leading them in an underground tunnel.

Bella remembered being grabbed firmly by Thorin and thrown into the tunnel. She went rolling down and landed right on top of Bombur’s massive belly.

But that wasn’t the end. Above their heads howling and screams were still threateningly close. The dwarves stood at the bottom of the tunnel, weapons in hand, ready to strike.

All of a sudden, she heard the sound of an arrow split the air above their heads, followed by the sound of a horn.

She cried in fear as the unmoving carcass of a dead Orc went rolling down the tunnel. The dwarves snapped, poking the body with their weapons to make sure the Orc was dead.

Thorin bent to remove the arrow from the carcass. He examined the shaft carefully and his eyes widened, “Elves!” he gritted as he tossed the arrow to the ground.

On the moment, Bella could not understand what that meant or how she was still alive. Her heart felt like a drum in her chest.

Dwalin ventured deep into the tunnel. “I cannot see where the pathway leads. Do we follow it or not?”

“We follow it, of course!” Bofur said as he went along. Clearly eager to get away as possible from the howls outside the tunnels.

Bella was of the same mind. She dusted off her trousers with shaking hands as she followed the others down the tunnel. Instinctively, she looked up at Gandalf.

The grey wizard looked somewhat relieved, almost amused. He peered down at Bella and winked in complicity, “I think that would be wise.”

Shakingly, she followed the others into the tunnel. They all went down in darkness, following the rocky serpentine. Bella felt as if her legs were about to fail her at every step and her head was throbbing mad. She had to hold onto the rock edges of the tunnel to keep herself from falling as she swept down Behind the others. She could feel her body drained of strength, the fight with the Trolls and the Orcs’ chase had left her exhausted, trembling and terrified like she had never felt in her entire life.

The tunnel seemed to go down for miles, for what seemed like hours they followed the rocky path. And right when Bella felt she couldn’t take another step... a warm breeze wrapped around her like a lover’s embrace. Invisible, soft arms held her sweetly.

Instantly her trembling stopped her exhaustion... Gone! Bella felt as she had just awakened from a restful slumber.

She gasped in relief, “Gandalf, where are we?” she asked as she turned to look at the wizard.

Gandalf smiled, “You can feel it?”

“Yes! It feels like…well, it feels like magic.”

“That’s exactly what it is, a very powerful magic.”

All of a sudden, she spied a light down the rocky path. With renewed strength in her feet, Bella followed the it down, darting between the Dwarves, wanting to reach first the end of the tunnel, curious to see what lay ahead.

The light lead them to a rocky cliff, splashes of a waterfall above them fell on her brow. And... There it stood, below the cliff, surrounded by splendid, tall yellow and crimson trees that graced the valley like a cloak, a river twisted around the hills below. Candid, wooden houses Stood above the autumnal forest, with its tower and bridges, there it stood, the hidden land of her stories.

Bella stood on the edge of the cliff amongst the dwarves, gazing wistfully at the wondrous sight.

 _“The Valley of Imladris.”_ Gandalf said, as he came up beside her, “In the common tongue, it’s known by another name.”

Bella smiled. She knew exactly what it was, “Rivendell.”

“Here lies the last homely house, east of the sea.” Gandalf went on.

Thorin turned to him, jaw so flexed it almost hurt, his infamous scowl darker than ever, “This was your plan all along.” He hissed, “To seek refuge with our enemy.”

 _Enemy_. The elves. Bella pondered. Bofur had told her, dwarves and elves held grudges and quarrels for ages, thousands of years.

Gandalf shot Thorin a scolding look, “You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield. The only ill-will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself.”

Bella glanced furtively between them. Thorin held the wizard’s eyes, “You think the Elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us!”

“Of course, they will. But we have questions that need to be answered.” Gandalf replied, “If we are to be successful, this will need to be handled with tact, and respect, and no small degree of charm, which is why You will leave the talking to me... “

Bella had to repress a smug smile against her hand. Gandalf had a smart mouth about him, when he was in the mood.

... And to Miss Baggins.” He said suddenly.

At that, her smile fell, “To _me_?!”

Thorin raised one eyebrow, “To _her_?!”

 “You heard me! Yes, I’ll do the talking and Bella with me. And I highly suggest that you two cease your quarrel, for the time we’ll remain here, better still, once and for all!” Gandalf rumbled, temper flaring. He swept down the stoney steps down the cliff, all they could do was follow him.

Once they Reached the valley below, they crossed a stoney bridge until they arrived at a round square, surrounded by tall, gloomy, white statues that stared down with their empty, marble eyes.

A cold welcome. No one stopped them, no one showed up to greet them. But, the quiet reception did nothing to disabuse Bella’s excitement. She gaped in awe at the tall statues and at the even taller settlements.

She glanced at the dwarves, they were in a mood as foul as Thorin’s.

When Gandalf suggested the that Company could seek refuge within the elves, just the day before, the Dwarf King refused brusquely. Bella wondered what kind of quarrel could be so important to refuse shelter when such danger was so threateningly close?

The dwarves looked uneasy. It was plain to see that they had absolutely no wish to be here. They looked in askance at their surroundings, glancing furtively around them, weapon still in their hands. Bella remembered being this distressed whenever she attended one of her family’s awful garden parties.

Despite the dwarves’ obvious reluctance in finding themselves in the elven valley, Bella was thrilled. Only the night before her life hang by a thread, held by three monstrous Trolls. And now, she stood safely in a valley that she had only read of in her books.

“ _Mithrandir_.” A soft voice called suddenly.

Gandalf stepped up, “Ah, Lindir.”

A tall, dark-haired Elf came towards them. Long, silver and lavander robes flowed behind him as he swept down the marble stairs.

Bella stared. She had never seen an Elf before, except in the paintings of her books. The one before her eyes was as tall as they were described, and he moved with a grace almost otherworldly.

The dwarves tensed as the elf moved closer. Bella heard Thorin lean in to whisper in Dwalin’s ears, “Stay sharp. Keep your eyes open.”

The elf greeted Gandalf in elvish and the wizard answered in the same fashion.

“I must speak with Lord Elrond.” Gandalf then demanded in Westron.

“My Lord Elrond is not here.” The elf told.

Gandalf’s brow furrowed, “Not here? Where is he?”

As if to answer the question, a horn echoed in the distance. Bella turned and glimpsed a group of elves, crossing the stone bridge riding on candid steeds.

The dwarves snapped as they saw them approach. Thorin shouted a command in dwarvish, sword fast in his hands. The dwarves followed suit, weapons ready to strike.

Bofur grabbed Bella by the collar of her jacket and pulled her behind him, amongst the others. As they tightened close, the elves surrounded them, circling around them like wolves surrounding a flock of sheep. Wheeling their horses in a circle.

“Gandalf!” a voice called amongst the them.

Gandalf turned to it, “Lord Elrond.”

Bella stood on tiptoe to get a closer look, pressed as she was amongst the others. So, this was the Elven Lord Gandalf was talking about. Lord Elrond was a tall elf, taller than the others. His dark, straight hair fell behind his shoulders, past his waist. A thin, metallic ring – of what she guesses was gold – rested on his temple, gleaming in the sunlight. He looked regal in full armor as he leaped down from his saddle to embrace Gandalf.

The elven lord presented the wizard a ugly, twisted blade that seemed carved from a whitened bone,“Strange for orcs to come so close to our borders. Something or someone must have drawn them near.”

“Ah, that may have been us.” Gandalf said looking towards Thorin.

The dwarf king stepped up, straightening his spine. Although Lord Elrond towered more than three heads above Thorin’s, and was clad in finer garments and a shining armor, while the dwarf king was dressed in simpler clothing and covered in dirt and blood, he looked not even half as self-possessed and fierce as the dwarf king.

For Lord Elrond’s dignity came from his crown and fine garments, while Bella knew, from watching the dwarf king from a distance, Thorin’s dignity came from within.

“Welcome Thorin, son of Thráin.” Lord Elrond greeted respectfully.

Thorin looked up at the Elven Lord suspiciously, “I do not believe we have met.”

Lord Elrond graciously ignored the cold tone in Thorin’s voice, “You have your Grandfather’s bearing. I knew Thrór when he ruled under The mountain.”

“Indeed? He made no mention of you.” Thorin replied, narrowing his eyes.

Bella rolled hers. She couldn’t believe it. Whenever her heart swelled with admiration towards the dwarf king, Thorin had to open his mouth and ruin everything.

Lord Elrond’s pale grey eyes fixed on Thorin’s blues, he opened his mouth and spoke in fluid, musical sindarin.

“What is he saying?”Glóin cried, “Does he offer us insults?!”his axe was fast in his hand, ready to strike.

Bella elbowed her way amongst the dwarves frantically, trying to prevent a massacre, “No, Master Glóin!” she said hurriedly as she stepped up in front of the elven lord, “Lord Elrond is offering us food!”

The dwarves looked at her in askance, Thorin shot her a look. Meanwhile, Gandalf was huffing a giggle underneath his beard.

Bella had read enough books about elves to comprehend the offer; ‘ _Light the fires, bring forth the wine. We Must feed our guests.’_

Lord Elrond’s grey eyes fell on her as he bent foward to get a closer look , “Well, long time have passed since I last laid my eyes upon a Hobbit of the Shire, but I do not recall to ever met one so erudite in Sindarin. I must admit. It is a pleasant surprise.”

Bella blushed, quite self-conscious of the awful state of her clothes and hair. She dropped in a quick courtsy, “ _Hannon le, Lord Elrond. Elen síla Lumenn’omentielvo._ ” She said in the best Sindarin she could muster.

Lord Elrond smiled, pleased, “What is your name, Lady of The Shire?”

Bella reddened, “My name is Bellado- Bella Baggins, My Lord.”

Lord Elrond straightened to address the dwarves, “As your friend has brilliantly translated, food and rest awaits you beyond the doors of Imladris. Be welcome, Durin’s folk.”

The dwarves turned to each other, frantically discussing amongst themselves about what to do, glancing suspiciously at the elves.

Bella rolled her eyes, exasperated.

“Ah, Well. In that case, lead on!” Glóin agreed.

Bofur came up beside her as they swept past beyond the gates of Rivendell, “How did ya know what the elf was saying?”he wanted to know.

“How did you know how to respond?” Fíli joined.

Bella gave a shrug, “I read it-“

She didn’t even had the time to finish the sentence as Bofur, Fíli, Kíli and Ori finished it for her in unison, “You read it in a book!”

The dark-haired ellon, Lindir led them through the doors of Rivendell. Through gardens full of fountains and flowers of every kind, until they reached a tall, candid settlement upon a hill. They climbed up a white stairway until they reached a chamber completely covered in huge, soft cushions. Trays of food had already been placed upon a low, marble table, full of boiled eggs, fruits and seed cakes, alongside two golden carafes filled with water and wine. No meat, Bella noticed.

“My Lord Elrond invites you all for a banquet, tomorrow evening, once you have taken your rest.” With no further words, the ellon left the chambers, sweeping down the marble stairs.

As soon as he was gone, the dwarves begun to mutter frantically amongst themselves, in that guttural, secretive language of theirs. There was no point in trying to understand what exactly they were talking about, but by the looks on their bearded faces, Bella could guess it was nothing good.

She left them to their grudges and wandered around the wide chamber. The dwarves could say what they wanted about the elves, but not that they didn’t welcomed the Company lavishly. The ceiling went up above so high that Bella almost hurt her neck to look up at it. The ambient was cozy and warm. The golden and crimson valley of Imladris extended down below the parapets of candid marble of the large balcony. It took her breath away. It was full spring beyond the borders of Rivendell, still, down in the valley autumn seemed eternal.

“It’s beautiful.” Bella murmured to herself. “You wanted to come here all along, didn’t you? That’s why you stormed off, yesterday. Right, Gand-“ she turned, expecting to find thw wizard right by the door, where he stood just a few moments before. “Gandalf?” she called, but in the chamber there were only her and her companions.

The sun was beginning to set over the borders of the valley. She looked wistfully into the distant horizon before turning back into the chamber.

Bella walked over where the trays of food had been placed Upon the lower marble table. Only the sight of it made her realize how hungry she was. She was thirsty too. First, she drank two cups of cold water and was about to nibble on an olive when a call came at her back.

“I wouldn’t taste that if I were you, Miss Baggins.” Dori warned, “Unless you want to drop stone dead on the floor.”

Bella was most unimpressed, “Poison? Truly?”

The thirteen were suddenly very quiet. Impatient to see if she dared to nibble on that olive.

“These elves are shifty, lass.” Glóin muttered darkly, “Who can really tell what they’re up to? Dinnae say we didn’t warned ye, then.”

Defiantly, Bella tossed the olive into her mouth and chewed lustily.

Kíli was wide-eyed, “Careful, Bella...”

Some spirit of mischief took hold on her and Bella peered at the dwarves to make sure they were all paying attention. She suddenly bent over, holding her stomach, as she meant to, coughing loudly and desperately. For her finale, she fell soundly on the ground, convoulsing dramatically, enough to tear surprised cries from the dwarves’ throats.

“Bella!”

“lassie!”

At once, the dwarves where by her side. Bofur and Kíli knelt by her feet shaking her roughly. At that Bella couldn’t help but burst into sonorous laughter.

The dwarves stopped in their tracks, frozen, until realization hit them and they all scoffed and grunted in annoyance. They were all looking down at her darkly, eyes burning.

Bofur’s brow furrowed, giving the miner a rather dark expression that she had never seen before on his usual jolly face, “By my beard, Bella!”

“That’s not funny, lass!” Glóin barked irritated.

“Oh, it was indeed! You all should see the looks on your faces!”

The dwarves where not amused. Not in the slightest. Whenever she turned, she was met with exasperated, disapproving hairy expressions. Oín even had his box of jar and pots of ointments under on arm. The healer scoffed and turned away, almost insulted. Bifur’s eyes were wide open with surprise. Even shy Ori looked contrite.

“Oh, c’mon! The food is fine! By all means, no trace of poison. You’re welcome! “

Balin rubbed his face, exasperated, “Alright, that’s enough.” He sighed, “It’s s late, we should all get some rest before facing what awaits us tomorrow.”

And with that, the dwarves tossed their weapons and sprawled on the cushions scattered all round the chamber, smoking their pipes and warily picking from the trays.

Bella reclined on one of the soft cushions lazily, sighing with pleasure. “Ah, finally.”

“That wasn’t fit, Miss Baggins.” Ori whispered as the others were not paying attention.

“Aye,” Bofur joined as he sat cross-legged on a green, velvet pillow, “didn’t ya scared us enough already?”

Bella Reached out to grab the cup of olives and nibbled at some. “I don’t really think someone would care if I truly dropped dead on the floor.”she said coolly.

Ori and Bofur stared.

“Why, Miss Baggins!”

“Ya kidding, lass!? Bifur would’ve cut those trolls’ limbs off to save ya. Bombur and I would’ve done the same.”

It was her turn to stare, startled. She pondered Bofur’s words, ashamed of herself. However gruff they may have been, the dwarves came to her aid, all of them, even Thorin... Thorin dropped his sword first when the trolls threatened to rip her arms off.

All night she shifted restlessly, curled up on her pillow. It felt strange, almost like laying on jam. After the tumultuous events of the last two days she thought it wouldn’t be a problem to fall asleep in the safety of the elven valley, and yet, sleep wouldn’t come. Bella tossed and turned uncomfortably until she tired herself out and drifted off to slumber.

In her dream, she was running from orcs and wargs all over again, but this time no dwarf was there to save her, and when there was nothing between her and the beast’s black throat, the dream changed. Suddenly her world was white. Snow and ice surrounded her and the touch of it burned. She was kneeling by a bleeding body. Hot tears ran down her cheeks, turned ice by the frosty wind.

“ _Go back_...”

Bella woke in the dark, for a drowsy moment, not quite knowing where she was. The moonlight streamed through the windows of the vast chamber. Tears filled her eyes. Suddenly, she was very hot. Her untidy locks curled about her shoulders and plastered on her forehead. In her sleep, she had shed of her filthy jacket and waistcoat, but now her very skin felt as hot and itchy as rough wool. She groped blindly in her backpack until she felt the hardness of the chain. As she stood, a stab of pain went through her bruised legs. The warm wave that embraced her when she entered the valley had ran its course and brought back all the pain. Trying not to stumble on her new little sword, Bella crossed the chamber on the balls of her feet, careful to not wake up her snoring companions, until she was out in the moonlit balcony.

She looked down into the valley below. Everything was quiet and at rest. The pale scythe of the crescent moon revealed the soft shapes of the hills, the trees, the cliffs. From there she could see everything. The tall, crimson and golden trees now looked heavy grey. The moonlight silvered the glistening waters of the river that cut through the forest to the sea, over the horizon.

Bella looked at the necklace. The chain was made of a lusterless metal that did not shone underneath the moonlight. To think that it belonged to her mother and to many Tooks before her. She was no Took. She was a Baggins and she did not deserved to have it.

Suddenly the very marble parapets of the balcony made her feel trapped; even with the vastness of the valley below, if felt as though there were not enough air to breathe.

“At least someone is standing watch.”

Thorin Oakenshield seemed to take Form out of the night. He walked closer, hands crossed behind his back. Even without his great furcoat, the Dwarf King still looked impressing and regal.

Bella averted her eyes. She had grown weepy and the last person she wanted to be seen crying was Thorin Oakenshield.

“I wasn’t standing watch.” She blurted out all at once. “I was...” _What? Crying?_ Oh, she couldn’t tell him that.

“I... The pillow.” She told him suddenly. “The pillow felt like jam and I couldn’t sleep comfortably.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, “It was too-“

“-Too soft.” Thorin came up beside her, looking down the parapets into the valley below, “The ground will feel harder and harder still, once we’re back on the road, away from this place.”

His tone was not harsh, but he spoke the last word almost like a snarl. _He doesn’t like being here no more than he liked the idea of having me in the Company._ Bella realized thunderstruck. What could possibly ever happened between the dwarves and the elves?

_“... The elves looked on and did nothing!”_

Those had been Thorin’s words, she remembered.

They stood side by side, looking down at the valley for a long time, saying nothing. After a while, Bella couldn’t take it anymore. The awkward silence had become insufferable, and she feared she was going to burst again into tears if she didn’t said something.

“He has not yet returned.” She spoke, at last.

Thorin’s head turned to her, expectantly.

“Gandalf. He disappeared this evening, and I didn’t seen him since. I don’t know where he might be.”

Thorin scoffed, “Consorting with the elves, no doubt.”

“What could they be ‘consorting’ about? Maybe he’s simply thanking Lord Elrond for his hospitality?”

“Hospitality? At what cost? Do you truly believe there’s no design in the elves’ generosity?”

Bella was perfectly confused. “Design? What kind of design there could be in offer food, rest and shelter? Gandalf said-“

“-What Gandalf says and what he thinks are two different things.” Thorin cut in abruptly. “You should know, by now, Miss Baggins. Isn’t he your friend?”

Bella blinked and said nothing. She hardly knew the grey wizard before he boarded her up on this mad adventure. “He- he speaks in riddles, sometimes, I know, but-“

Thorin’s laugh cut her off. A throaty, humorless cackle, “Riddles, indeed. He had intention to lead us here from the very beginning. A man of low-cunning, your friend. Though, is still a mystery to me why he had tasked you with the matter of small-talk.”

The coldness in Thorin’s tone turned Bella back to anger, “Well, I hardly see you blazing the trail in that department.”

Thorin turned to her, his blue eyes fixed into her green’s. If she didn’t know his stone features never let anything out, she would’ve swore his hard mask went slack for a moment.

“So, you believe the elves will help us? Do you trust them so, already?”

It was a sudden question, and for a while, Thorin let her reflect on her answer, “Why wouldn’t I? I know I can trust Gandalf.”

Thorin’s eyes seemed to grow dim. Something almost like delusion flashed in them. “You foolish woman. You know nothing.” He gritted, turning away.

Bella clenched the necklace tight in her hands. “I’m not foolish! I’m grateful! Grateful to have escaped death, and found shelter and food and rest within this valley! ”

Thorin stopped in his tracks and turned back to her.

“I’m grateful,” she went on, “And I believe I’ll have to be for the whole lot of you, because you seem to have no regard for it, or for hospitality, or for manners, or for simple civility. Which is something that seems quite common for dwarves. And that I know for certain, because you lot gave me proof of it a month or so ago, when you came bursting through my door with presumption and vehemence, invading my house and plundering my pantry. Showing absolutely no regard for me or mine, and now, you expect me to agree with you for doing just the same in this place?”

Thorin took a step foward towards her and Bella instinctively drew back. Strong fingers clasped around her wrist as he held her in place.

“If you truly believe your gratitude is important to the elves, then you are a bigger fool that I thought you were.” He gritted, eyes blazing.

Thorin raised the hand he had clasped and turned her palm to reveal the necklace. The dwarf king gave the chain a close inspection, but Bella yanked her hand away.

“Gratitude is important to _me_. Is it to _you_?” she said slipping the necklace safely in her pockets.

“I won’t be grateful when the elves will reveal themselves for what they truly are and will try to take what they really want.”

“Which is?”

Thorin groaned, “The map and the key.”

“That’s absurd! Gandalf said that the passage through the mountain is invisible, and that there is a a way to find it, hidden in the map... “ Bella thought about that a moment, and realized it, “Unless... They have a way to discover it...”

The dwarf king nodded, “Do you still believe there’s no design in the elves’ hospitality?”

Bella was quite dumbstruck. Which happened very frequently in the last few weeks, and she had to admit, she did not liked it at all. She decided to ponder the information carefully before she spoke again.

“Well, They don’t know why we are here, do they? They don’t know that we have the map and the key, even so... if the elves truly have the answers we need, our staying in Rivendell would not be meaningless. ”

Thorin tossed his head back, exasperated. “ _Mahal_ give me strength! If your Lord Elrond sees the map, he’ll know our true purpose. He has reasons already to suspect.”

Bella rolled her eyes, “Oh, I don’t see Why? Since you behaved so splendidly at the gates.”

Thorin shot her look. Not his usual scowl, though. His dark eyebrows were raised, chiding her wordless. Bella held his gaze, brow furrowed and lips pushed foward, slightly pursed.

They stared at each other in a silent contest for quite a while. Waiting to see which one of them was going to break first... Eventually Bella averted her gaze, reluctant. Staring into Thorin’s eyes had flustered her more than she liked to admit, and she was sure that if she’d stared a moment more, it would’ve been enough to have her burst into sonorous laughter. She decided to herself that blushes and girlish giggles were certainly more humiliating than tears.

Bella pushed her hair back. “Would that be so bad..?”

The Dwarf King turned toward her once more. He didn’t need to ask what she was talking about. He turned newly toward the valley, looking wistfully to east before answering, “It’s a risk. The Mountain is a prize desired by many. On the other hand, a dragon loose in the world is a terrible thing... Should we reveal our true intentions and the map to Lord Elrond, he will try to stop us.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And you do?”

“No.” She admitted. “But we’ve come this far. Do you truly wish to waste this chance because of mistrust?”

Thorin kept his eyes fixed to east, into the black of the night. The moonlight casting shadows on his stone features. “That doesn’t concerns you.”

The cool night air tousled her hair, sending dirty strands to curl around her neck, her cheeks. Bella turned away from the balcony, walking back toward the chamber.

“Halfling.” Thorin’s voice called at her shoulders. Bella stopped where she stood and waited. “Don’t think to go and reveal our intentions to Lord Elrond. Also, not a word about your role as Burglar.”

Bella made her hands into fists. “Don’t you worry about that,”she told him calmly, “Should Lord Elrond ask, I’ll simply tell him the truth about what I am to you.”

She could feel Thorin tense behind her, “Which is?”

Bella turned, offering him the most beautiful of her smiles, “The grocer.”she dropped in a curtsy, then whirled, walking back into the chamber.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many more feelings awaits ahead.
> 
> As always, hope you enjoyed and thanks for all the love, comments and kudos, my darlings. <3


	8. The goodness of the Lady Arwen

Bella wandered through the halls of Imladris for the entire morning.

She had woken early, tired and hungry. Once she found the large trays of food proved empty – Yavanna forbid the dwarves should spare even only one crumb for her to eat – Bella grabbed her jacket and clumsily hung her little sword around her hips, venturing down into the valley. The Hobbit half ran through gardens surrounded by tall, magnificent golden trees. The autumnal leaves blazed upon the branches in orange, yellow, and red clothing. Along the path that went by the river, the tall, candid towers of marble stood above the valley, glimmering in the sunlight. A soft breeze was blowing gently from the north, sending a delightful chill through her. She couldn’t really stood still in a day like this. Bella felt impatient, restless and skittish.

It really felt like it was early autumn, there. Was it because of that kind of _magic_ she felt when she entered the valley? Well, she couldn’t tell. Bella wandered alone, in search of food, or someone who could point her towards the kitchens. Once through the path beneath the trees, she reached a fountain in a a small garden. A pale maiden was standing on her shell, holding a vase in her hands. From it, a jet of water was pouring feebly into the green water of the pool below. She looked curiously at the maiden statue and then, behind it, toward a candid settlement. A long hall went down into a long, arched corridor that ran into a luminous hall. 

It didn’t looked like a kitchen, yet it was too tempting to resist, but Bella hesitated all the same. Lord Elrond had provided them shelter from the orcs, true, but she wasn’t sure he would appreciate her sneaking around his domain. And yet, and yet, she had meet no guard, no other elves asking her who she was and what she was doing there.

Bella decided to step into the halls. Walking down the long corridor, still, no one was there to stop her. If she hadn’t seen Lord Elrond and his guards when they arrived, she would have sworn that the place was uninhabited. She finally reached a heavy, silver door, with a handle so high she had to jump to reach it. She pushed the door open. . . And was rewarded with a sight she had only dreamed.

She had never seen a library half so great in her entire life. The hall was immense. The sun was slanting though the arched, marble parapets, revealing dancing dust motes that fell upon the thick tomes on their shelves. Bella wandered through the aisle of books, gaping in awe, running her fingers upon the leather covers of the precious tomes. Some of them were so dusty and worn out that it almost seemed no one had touched them in years, centuries.

Bella Baggins rummaged as she pleased into the vast library for hours. Her quest for food completely forgotten. She was bound to pick the books with titles in westron since she didn’t know how to read those in Sindarin and the others were written in runes and other elvish dialects she could not comprehend. Bella lost herself in the pages, as she always did when she had a good book in her hands. She sat on a pile of books with a men-big tome in her lap twice her size. This one was about healing herbs and had beautiful floral paintings in it. She eventually grew greedy for more. She opened other doors that led to other aisles and picked up another one, a history tome about the rise and fall of the Kingdom of Gondolin. That wasn’t exactly a rare book. Her grandfather, the Old Took owned a copy in his own private library and would often tell the tale to his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, sitting around a fire or under the party tree. Bella quested for more and found a small book, lighter and closer to her size. It told the tale of love and adventures of the mortal men Beren and the Elf-maiden Lúthien. Bella read breathlessly. She couldn’t believe of a love between two beings of two entirely different races. Two entirely different worlds. One elven born, the other, a mortal.

She had never heard of it! She only ever heard it was unheard of.

At the end of the story, The _elleth_ renounced her immortality to share her loved’s fate. Bella closed the book at last. She sat with a foot tucked underneath her, pondering on the finale. The heroine of the story had given up her birthright, her immortality. The people she knew and loved would keep on living endlessly, long after her death. Her thoughts drifted to west, toward her Shire. Life was certainly going on without her, of course it was.

If she closed her eyes, she could almost see it; the sweet rolling hills crowned in white daisies, the fields redolent with the scent of lavender to make honey. Hamfast Gamgee, tending to his garden. Drogo and Prim, boating happily on the Brandywine. Had he finally found the courage to propose, at last? She hoped so. Her cousins, Paladin Took and Saradoc Brandybuck, most likely laughing and joking, blowing ribbons of smoke from their pipes. Or planning another trip to old Muggoth’s farm, stealing vegetables. The men working in the fields under the warm sun of May, the women at the market, with the baskets full of goods and colorful parasol, waving palmetto fans to keep away the heat. Her world was there, in the Shire, and in the Shire life went on, very much as it has this past Age... Has it will, now that she was gone, has it will long after her death. Bella’s thoughts went back to what she had said to Thorin, the night before, and to what he had said to her.

_“That doesn’t concerns you.”_

It did concerned her. Though, not wanted, wasn’t she part of the Company as well? The dwarves risked their life to save her, true, but wasn’t she risking too? She had signed away her life, was it for nothing? He had said the words like a command. Urgent, male authority that in every other moment and told by someone else would have made Bella toss her head back and laugh in a mischievous, mocking way. But, those words told by Thorin had the affect on Bella to grit her teeth.

Bella closed the book in her lap and rose with her mind made up.

She begun to wander around the tall aisles of the library, frantically serching, scanning for every possible book that could give her the answers she wanted. Maybe Thorin was right, maybe Gandalf had pushed the Company to come to Rivendell in search for answers to the riddle of the map, and if the Elves had the answers, then, she may find it in one of these books. Bella didn’t know for how long she looked, not finding anything revealing nor concerning the matter, she decided to wander a little farther from the tall shelves. She ventured toward a stair, leading to a balcony. At the top, there was a statue, a grey statue of a hooded, weeping maiden. The sculpted cloth of her cloak was so fine Bella wanted to run her finger through it, before she realized it was just cold stone. The statue was holding a silver tray on which upon was laid an azure, velvet cloth. Bella had to jump several times to find out what it was laid upon it. At maybe, the fifth of sixth jump, she managed leap high enough to get a glimpse of a ray of sun shining upon something silvery. She finally realized, after multiple attempted leaps that the tray held many scattered pieces of shiny metal, some kind of tool, perhaps or a weapon...

Huffing and puffing, she gave up every chance to get a closer look without a stool and turned her shoulders at the statue, facing a curious sight; a painted wall, portraying an epic battle; a lone hero, standing upon a desolate battlefield, armor shattered, he attempted one last stand against a dark lord. The details were so exquisite they almost seemed alive. The greys and whites lights of the battlefield on the background, a gloomy contrast with the golden, shining armor of the hero, with the silver of his sword. The black and crimson shadows of the dark lord, sure caught attention, but all the light in the painting seemed faded, or better still, captured by one, single, small detail; a golden ring upon one of the fingers of the closed fist of the dark lord. A simple, shining, golden ring that seemed to overshadow every other detail in the painting. It was beautiful. It almost took her breath away and she almost wanted to...

Bella reached out one, questing hand and... And let it fell at her side. She still had a work to do.

Her quest led to nothing. She dusted, unfolded and searched every book, scroll or tome. Turned every page, finding nothing. Nothing spoke of Smaug or the Lonely Mountain. She had been so sure, hoping to find something that might solve the riddle of the map, without having to reveal the true purpose of the quest.

Let Thorin be sulky, Bella was determined. No matter how harsh he may have been, he had saved her life...he had saved her life, even after he claimed not to be responsible for her safety. In truth she was bewildered at her own behavior, that dwarf’s stubbornness had something that made her want to be even more stubborn.

She was bent over a scroll, finger tracing the lines as she read. It was a legend of an army of dead men in the depths of the caverns beneath a mountain. No dwarfs’ treasures nor dragons and certainly not directions for a secret passage through the stone. It would not do, she decided. Bella never quite believed in ghosts, nor she truly enjoyed ghost stories, she always liked adventures tales best. She set about to put away the scroll when the sun rays came slanting through the windows, blinding her. She blinked and looked out the parapets, the sun was begging to set, beyond the cliffs surrounding the valley of Imladris, to west and... The Banquet!

Bella jumped up and about. There was no need to look down at herself, she knew all too well that She was soiled, filthy. Reeking of sweat, dirt, blood and Troll’s snot. And she did not liked at all how she kept forgetting in what miserable state she was.

Bella darted out the door, leaving behind the library with a twinge of regret. Her little sword clanking at her side as she ran. She darted into the direction she guessed led back to the quarters where the Company was settled. Oh, she was going to be late, but she could not attend an elvish banquet with Lord Elrond still Clad in those stinky clothes!

Not quite looking were she was going and not caring too much, Bella turned a corner... And Tripped into something soft and shimmery... It was the trail of a gown.

“I am terribly sorry!” she blurted out as she stood back on her feet.

When she raised her eyes, The _Elleth_ was looking at her with wide eyes, as grey as the winter sea. Tall, she was, with long, dark hair that fell in soft waves behind her shoulders. Fair of face and candid flawless skin. She was clad in splendid ivory silks that fell in a silvery, shimmery trail that swept behind her. At her hips she wore a silver belt, and only one, simple jewel around her neck, a silver necklace with a star-like shaped pendant.

She was beautiful. As beautiful as Lúthien.

Bella reddened, knowing she was a pathetic sight to this splendid maiden. She adverted her eyes, “Please forgive me. I should have been watching where I was stepping.”

The Elleth blinked, “You must be the Hobbit I have been hearing so much about.”

Bella raised her green eyes to the maiden’s grey ones, “I am sorry?”

The maiden’s thin, red lips twitched into a soft smile, “My father had told me that Gandalf the Grey had crossed the gates of the Imladris with a company of thirteen dwarves and one hobbit maiden unexpectedly erudite in Sindarin, he was the most delighted about you.”

Her father! Yes, her grey eyes were so closely resembling Lord Elrond’s. Bella inclined her head, “Oh... Lord Elrond is kind to say so...My Lady.”

The lady smiled down at her, “please call me Arwen, and you are...”

“Oh, my name is Bella Baggins, My Lady.”

“Are you not with your companions, Miss Bella?”

“I-I am afraid I wandered off, and now I am late for Lord Elrond’s banquet.” Bella confessed. “You must excuse me, Lady Arwen, I... Lord Elrond had been kind to invite me at his banquet, but I’m not entirely sure he’d extend the invitation to my fleas.”

Lady Arwen raised a pale hand to her mouth and burst into musical giggles, looking as happy as a child and so very young. Still giggling, the Elleth looked down at her from head to toe, taking in Bella’s miserable state. Bella blushed beneath her gaze. The Bagginses roots ran too deep, she was ashamed to be in such conditions.

“I am afraid I cannot possibly let you go, then.” Lady Arwen said softly, “Please, follow me, if you would.”

She gestured for Bella to follow. All she could do was let Lady Arwen lead her. She brought her in front of the gates of one of the tall, candid, marble towers. Once inside, she led her up the stoney steps until they reached a large chamber. Two Elleths were waiting inside, they stood to their feet as they saw Lady Arwen enter and dropped in respectful courtsies.

“Please, Have Miss Bella, Lady of the Shire bathed and fed. She will be my guest for the Evening. “ The elven lady said to her two hand-maids.

Bella looked up to Lady Arwen in astonishment, “ My Lady, please. I can’t accept. I don’t mean to be a burden.”

 “What a silly thing to say. You are no burden, Miss Bella, you are my guest. I’ll be honored to have you here, this evening.”

Bella blushed, deeply moved, “Then I’ll gladly accept.”

Lady Arwen nodded. Without further words, the two hand-maids promptly marched her through a door and into a bath chamber with pink, marble walls. At the center, a great pink, marble tub was already filled with hot, steaming water.

How could that be possible? Did Lady Arwen knew she was coming? Bella decided not to voice any questions. Arwen’s kindness was more than enough.

One of the elven hand-maids, a tall girl with long, brown straight hair and pretty blue eyes, presented her with a bronze basket. Bella stripped of her dirty clothes and folded them upon it, unbuckled her sword and placed it upon the pile. The other Elleth, a woman with long, wawy hair and hazel eyes scented the water with perfumed oils and Helped Bella inside. The water was scalding hot and Bella let the heat embrace her with a pleased sigh. The fragrant scents surrounded her as she immersed eagerly into the tub. The heat seemed to sink through her skin. The soreness she felt upon her forearms and ankles, where she got those nasty, purple bruises, from the tight, rough grip of the trolls... Faded!

The elleth with the hazel eyes began to scrub her body clean. Bella accepted her help stiffly. She had never been used to being bathed by a hand-maid, she never had any. Never before she felt so exposed to the sight of others. The hand-maids were only performing their duties, but she could feel the Elleths’ eyes inspecting her body, her figure, her furry feet. So that she wanted to sink beneath the surface, leaving only the tips of her pointy ears above the water.

She fought back the instinct and let the handmaids set about their duties. It would be unkind to refuse Lady Arwen’s generosity. The elleth scrubbed her back and arms gently until her skin glowed pink and Bella was startled to see how dirty the water became. The handmaid addressed her to ask if she could lift her feet to brush the fur.

“I would like to do it myself, if you don’t mind.” She said uncertaintly. Letting her body to be attended to was one thing, but hobbit’s furry feet were an entirely different matter. Those were a private, intimate part of the body.

The elleth inclined her head, “As you would, My Lady. ”

She handed Bella the comb and set about brushing her wet hair, combing out the knots gently as Bella attended to her own feet. Once she was clean, the hand-maid helped her out of the tub, toweled her dry and wrapped her in a soft, creamy robe. She led Bella back into the main chamber, where the other girl, the Elleth with the blue eyes, had set a small table with a cup, a carafe of water, a bowl of grapes and a plate with cheese. Soon after, came a soft knock on the door.

“Come in? ” Bella called out, uncertainly.

Lady Arwen entered the chamber, carrying something in her arms, a sweet smile upon her face, “Valars, what a beautiful maiden are you, Miss Baggins, ” her smile reached her grey eyes as she took her in.

Bella blushed and courtsied, “I thank you with all my heart, Lady Arwen, for your generosity, but I really don’t want to bother you further.”

Lady Arwen handed the things she was carrying over to the blue-eyed hand-maid and walked Closer “Nonsense. It’s a pleasure to have you here, and by the way, I couldn’t possibly let you go with only your skin. Please, have a seat. You must be hungry.”

“No.” Bella’s stomach rumbled.

Lady Arwen smiled, “Yes, you are.”

She gestured for Bella to sit at the small table and to help herself. Bella drank a little water and begun to worry over the cheese platter as Lady Arwen dismissed her two handmaids with a smile. The blue-eyed elleth deposited the bundle that had been handed to her upon a chair and left the room alongside her companion dropping one last courtsy to their Lady.

Lady Arwen turned back to her, “I would like to tend you myself, if you would allow me, Miss Bella.” She murmured as she picked up a silver brush.

“It would be an honor, My Lady.”

“Would you not call me Arwen?”

“Only if you call me Bella.”

Arwen set about to brush her long fall of auburn hair in gentle, long strokes. “I am sure you might be wondering why everything appeared ready for you.” She said suddenly.

Bella was wondering just so. “Yes.”

“I was hoping to meet you. ” Arwen murmured as she brushed, “When I visited with my father, today, he told me that _Mithrandir_ has crossed the borders to Imladris, accompanied by thirteen dwarves led by Thorin Oakenshield and one, peculiar Hobbit. Seeing a halfling of the Shire so far away from her homeland, traveling with dwarves and a wizard is a rather unexpected sight, I was curious.”

“I have known Gandalf since I was a girl.” Bella said.

“I see. Was he who introduced you to Thorin Oakenshield?”

“Yes, I hosted him and his in my house, back in the Shire.” She said vaguely. Thorin warned not to say a word about the quest, and she was no snitch.

They kept talking lovely, chatting and laughing as Arwen brushed and combed her hair until Bella felt it all soft and silky. Arwen begun to ask her question about her life in the Shire, wanting to know every single little detail. Bella was happy to oblige. She told her everything, from the colour of her front door to what was sold on the booths at the market. She told her how she learned the basics of Sindarin from the books in Tuckborough’s library and how she used to wander off in the fields, late in the evening, looking for elves. Arwen listened patiently, even fascinated, unlike her companions, who listened to her stories with bored interest and only scoffed and grunted.

“I knew Hobbits were rather reserved and that they rather kept to themselves. Not many in Middle-Earth are aware about your existence. And yet, you learned so many things! Your grandfather’s library must be very furnished.”

“Nothing half so grand as the library you have here in Rivendell.” Bella admitted. “I’ve sever seen anything so amazing in my entire life.”

“I’m pleased of your amazement. I have judged you, by your speech, well cultured and clever. It is something to be proud of and to be encouraged. You are free to read as many books as you like.

“Truly, Arwen?”

“You have my explicit permission, Bella, I assure you. And if there’s a topic that attracts you in particular, tell me, I’ll be happy to enlighten you. Knowledge should be available to all, especially to a woman as clever and curious as you.”

Bella thought about that for a moment, “As a matter of fact, there is a certain matter... But I couldn’t find any book concerning it.”

“What is it?”

Bella hesitated. “It is – I... I found a book narrating the adventures of an elven-maid named Lúthien... She-she falls in love with a mortal, Beren, and I was wondering... Is that true? Can two beings of two entirely different races be together?” She blurted out at once. Bella had been so close to ask Lady Arwen about the hidden secrets of the map. But she couldn’t find it in herself to betray the dwarves, to betray Thorin... Despite everything, it was his right to keep his secrets and she had no right revealing them.

Lady Arwen settled the brush aside and turned to face Bella, “It is true. Beren and Lúthien really existed, long time ago...” she trailed off before meeting her eyes, “It is possible, to flout convention. Those who were the results of these unions were called ‘Half-elven’. Those beings were given a choice. To choose either the path of immortality and become completely Elven or to accept the mortal gift of men.”

“Which is?”

Arwen’s grey eyes set into her green’s, “Death.”

Just so. It was as told in the book. Though Bella asked to deviate her first attempt to ask about the map, nonetheless...she was curious. “And about... Other races?”

Lady Arwen smiled, though her grey eyes had darker veil of sadness in them, “Are you referring about someone in particular? One of your companions, perhaps?”

Bella went pale, “What?! Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. You mistake me, I was asking out of curiosity.”

Arwen giggled, “Are you sure? I think love is a plausible reason to step out of your door and leave your land behind. It must be exciting, traveling with a company of dwarves.”

“Well, it has its ups and downs.”

“I got a glimpse of them, from my chambers, earlier.”She offered Bella a knowing smile, “I thought that the Dwarf King was very handsome.”

Bella blushed and averted her eyes, “I-I didn’t really thought about that. ” she lied. Oh, yes. Thorin was handsome. The most handsome being Bella had ever laid eyes upon. She had thought it ever since the night she met him. But he was also stubborn and prickly and sulky and Insufferable.

“They all have such beards!” Arwen went on, “Seldom bearded men venture here in Imladris.” The Elleth was still smiling looking at her when Bella raised her eyes again. The two women stared at each other for a moment and then both bursted into sudden giggles.

“So, it’s not for love, then.” Arwen said. “Not romantic, at least. I don’t know who you are, Bella Baggins of the Shire, nor why fate has brought you to Thorin Oakenshield and to his Company, something important, I fear.”

Bella sighed, “More like the stubborn will of a wizard and a well furnished pantry.”

“But I believe love has a part in it. Only something as greater could have led you through the path you have taken. And in follow it you are very brave, and a very brave Hobbit like you must wear the proper garments.”

She stood and went to the chair and picked up the bundle she had been carrying when she entered the room. She held the gown out for her to inspect. It was beautiful. Arwen had presented her a sleeveless dress that left her arms bare and reached just above her ankles. Bella reached out a timid hand and ran her firgers through the pale, green silk, as smooth as water.

She gasped, breathless, “Oh, Arwen, I can’t accept this. This gown is far too precious for the likes of me.”

Lady Arwen frowned, “Nonsense. Here, the colour would bring out the green in your eyes and the blazing red in your hair. Your skin is ivory, not pale. Warm as honey, kissed by the sun. You deserved to be dressed with all the colour of the forest. It will suit you splendidly.”

Bella had ran out of excuses to not accept that dress. When she will ever again have the chance to wear something so glamorous? She stripped out of the creamy robe and gazed down at her arms and legs, in astonishment. The nasty purple bruises left by the grip of the trolls were gone!nFaded completely. Not even the trace of faint green of yellow shadows of the healing hurt left upon her skin.

She gasped, “how...”

“The water.” Arwen said simply.

She fetched a small, glass ampoule and anointed Bella with the fragrant scent of flowers herself. She dabbed it on Bella’s lips, on both of her wrist, behind her neck, lightly on her pink nipples and then between her legs. She gave Bella soft linen undergarments, but no shift. Once she was dressed in that beautiful green silk, Bella looked down at herself. The smooth fabric wrapped her curves sinuosly, revealing her thin waist-line and her lush hips. She touched her belly, where the fabric was almost transparent, there was nothing between her skin and the smooth fabric, no shift nor corset. It was so different from any Shire dress she had ever wore. She felt bare and exposed. The heavy, flowing skirts and the corsets had always protected her, armored her. This dress, though fine, felt as if the lightest touch could dissolve it. Bella felt as exposed as she felt in the bath, naked, bare. There was nothing wrapping her, nothing laced up, nor fasted. She could feel her fat jiggling with every move, and yet, there was confidence in it. She felt beautiful and graceful and free.

Oh, but there was more, so much more!

Lady Arwen tended newly to Bella’s hair, tousling them in a artful way. She coiled two locks ehind her head, letting her pointy-ears bare, then, unexpectedly, presented her with two beautiful bronzey vine-shaped bracelets. The cold metal wrapped around her wrists like vines around a branch, glimmering in the dying Sun of the evening.

“Oh, Arwen, not the jewels, how will I ever be able to repay you?”

Arwen smiled softly, her pale face glowing against those stark, grey eyes, “Knowing that your evening and your stay here In Rivendell went well, will be more than enough, my friend.”

The Elleth went to the large marble table, when she turned back, she had Belladonna’s necklace in her hands, “This chain was amongst your things. It would have been a pity lose it.” She fasted the lusterless jewel around Bella’s neck, a gentle hand upon her shoulder, her long, pale fingers trailed down her neck, reaching the pendant with the deadly night shade carved in it.

“You asked me earlier if it was possible for two beings if two entirely different races to be together, to be as one. I’ll shall answer to you that trying to reconcile such duality can bring pain and sorrow, for there is both light and darkness in all, but... “ she reached out and raised Bella’s chin, “... There’s also hope. Take courage from that. As I said, I don’t know who you are nor were are you going, somewhere dangerous, I fear.”

Bella swallowed hard, “You haven’t the faintest idea.”

“But I know you are going to need this.” Lady Arwen presented her a weapon, “ I asked to add a belt to the scabbard, so you will be able to fast it more easily around your hips.”She handed Bella the short-sword Gandalf gave her at the troll’s lair, then, clasped her shoulders gently and turned her back toward the mirror.

“There. Now, you are ready.”

Her reflection stared back at Bella with wide, surprised green eyes. Her hair fell in lazy ringlets behind her shoulders, blazing red like the autumn leaves under the sun.

“I thank you, Lady Arwen, truly. From the bottom of my heart.” Bella said humble, moved, “For your kindness. . . For everything.”

She looked down at her dress, “And I thank you for this. You have been kind in lending me this dress and the bracelets, Arwen.”

Lady Arwen raised a hand, “That. Is a gift, my friend, not a lent.”

Bella inclined her head, “Then I thank you for it, my friend, it is beautiful.”

“So are you, Bella Baggins. Go, now, your dwarves awaits you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made it a point of pride to gave whatever Bella wears reflects her personality and benefits her character: 
> 
> 1.She chooses men gartements to travel with the dwarves because it would be more easy to move. It's a choice that shows she's s clever and resourceful, but the clothes are also very fine ( a red jacket and a bright green waistcoat.) more comfortable than dresses but still not exactly fit for traveling. Showing her naive and inexperience nature. In choosing ger late Father's clothes, we see she's sentimental and isn't quite ready to let go of her lost loved ones in her heart. 
> 
>  
> 
> 2\. She brought a skirt and some other feminine clothes because deep inside her she doesn't want to renounce to her more graceful and feminine side. Her taste for simpler clothing indicates an elegant nature. Bella brought a corset with her in her journey because her roots and her family beliefs ran too deep, despite her clear distaste for the thing. She also shows up at family's gathering in simpler, more boyish clothes than the frilly frocks she is expected to wear. That creates conflicts with her family, but deep down Bella wants to create them in a way to stand her ground amd fight for her corner.
> 
> 3\. In chapter 3,when she fusses about all the clothes she could wear at the gathering, she immediately ditches a green dress that she claims to be her favorite because she had "wore it to many times" it's a way of saying that felt comfortable in a dress that suits her colors and fits her perfectly to many times where her family would like to see her more in other dresses of their own choosing. The pink frock she rejects, for example. With her obvious red hair, Bella is well aware that she would look awful in it, or a least not comfortable. It has clearly too many ribbons and too many skirts. The frock is clearly one of her relatives's gift and shows that they haven't the faintest idea of what Bella likes or suits her best. She also rejects many other dresses of her own choosing, thinking they would not be appropriate for the event because she's pained by this disagreement with her own family, despite her defiance. It shows her good sense and her self awareness that picking every single fight is not often the wisest path. Bella also refuse to wear her mother's red dress, agreeing to herself that red is a statement colour, not fit for a family gathering, indicating that Belladonna Took wasn't like the rest of the Hobbits. Bella kept the dress because, then again, she's sentimental, but also because she wants to be very much like her mother. Braver and daring. Also that she doesn't feel like walking in her mother's shoes...or dress 
> 
> 4\. And finally, The elven green dress. The gown that Arwen gives her in this chapter is alien to Bella and yet not as much as to feel stranger. The dress is simple, more to her comfort and taste, and is green, a colour she likes and suits her perfectly. It is supposed to represent her journey amd and how she's facing it with uncertainty but also with growing confidence. Bella also feels exposed, she was always protected by wide skirts and corsets. Exactly how she feels exposed out into the wide world, but there she feels confident and free. Not quite ready to change and grow but on the right path.
> 
> Well, class dismissed. You may now go in piece.  
> As always, hope you enjoyed amd thanks for the lovely lovely lovely comments amd kudos, darlings.


	9. The man on the moon stayed up too late!

Bella took a deep breath. The belt of her short-sword hung awkwardly on her shoulder like some bag, not wanting to fast it at her hips, around her green, silk dress. She pushed the door open and stepped into the hall. Lord Elrond, Gandalf and Thorin were there, waiting. They all turned towards her when they heard the door open.

“Ah, there she is.” Gandalf said as he saw her. “My dear girl, fashionably late is one thing.”

Bella smiled. “That’s what happens when one’s actually makes an effort to appear fashionable.” She said pert, taking in Gandalf’s usual grey clothing.

The Grey Wizard frowned, “I was worried you might have gotten lost.”

“That’s make the two of us.”

Only a few moments passed before Bella took notice that Thorin was staring at her, taking her in from head to toe. It dawned on her that wearing an elven dress must have been quite unexpected. Thorin’s gaze swept down her hair to her dress with a stone-cold expression that made her want to roll her eyes to the back of her skull. Yet, Bella did not yield easily. She gave him a bright smile. A defiant gesture that she thought would earn her one of the Dwarf King’s dark scowls, but instead,Thorin inclined his head slightly in a gesture of acknowledgement...Without any hint of mockery or rage or contempt.

It took her aback. In fact, everything about him took her aback. Thorin looked less rageful, more relaxed and cleaner than he was when the Company entered the Valley, the morning before. He had taken leave of his big furcoat and was wearing clean, fresh gartments; a black shirt and a metallic plated mail, his new long-sword hung at his waist and his steel-toed boots had been scrubbed clean. His dark mane flowed behind his shoulders unbound and lustrous black.

 Elves, told the tales, were supposed to be the most beautiful beings to ever roam Middle-Earth, but none of the elves she had seen was half so handsome as Thorin Oakenshield.

Lord Elrond gestured for them to follow him through the hall and out into a balcony.

“Kind of you to invite us.”Gandalf told him, “I’m not really dressed for dinner.”

“Well, you never are.” Lord Elrond said and then, glanced down at Bella and smiled, “Unlike your elegant Hobbit friend, here.”

Gandalf turned to her, smiling, and winked in complicity.

Once they climbed up the balcony, Gandalf and Thorin took their seats at Elrond’s high table, above a dais, while the dark-haired Ellon – Lindir – led Bella were the rest of the Company was seated. Well away from the dais, she noticed. Two low tables were set for the members of the Company, each with six seats. The dwarves were sitting on soft cushions, already drinking and chatting cheerfully.

Bofur sat at the second table, his floppy hat worn even at dinner. He was reclining on a pillow, lazily drinking wine and chatting with Kíli and Dwalin. As soon as he caught sight of Bella, Bofur sputtered, dribbling red wine all over himself and onto his velvet pillow. “Lassie! You...”

The rest of the Company turned to stare. Bella felt all eyes on her. Ori gaped with his mouth hanging open and his cheeks turned pink. Bella blushed too, ducking her head shyly. At least they wouldn’t call her ‘laddie’ anymore after tonight, she thought as she took her place at the first table, between Fíli and Balin, among Bombur, Dori, and Ori.

Although she had enjoined her day, blessedly alone, away from the Company, Bella had to admit that she had missed the noisy, hairy band.

As she sat, the white-bearded dwarf took her hand gently, “Miss Baggins, you are a delight for these tired, old eyes. I speak from my heart, you are the most beautiful woman in all Middle-Earth.” Smiling, he kissed her fingers.

Bella blushed, and hid a smile beneath her hand, “Have you seen all those women yourself, Master Balin?”

He gave a chuckle and reached out to pinch lightly her smiling cheek,“cheeky.”

The chatter and laughter of earlier had died down as she had walked in, but soon begun the stares and the murmurs.

“The most laggardly woman in Middle-Earth, that’s what she is.” Dori commented as he wrinkled his nose, in disdain, “Have you no decency, Miss Baggins?”

“Brother!”

“Oh, be quiet, Ori! The girl was gone for the entire day and then, she walks in late and wearing elvish garments, of all things!”

_“Brother!”_

“Did you expect the lass to dine with those filthy rags? We’ll have none of your rambling tonight.” Balin said frowning.

Fíli turned to her with an apologetic smile, “Never you mind him, Miss Baggins... Dori’s in a mood.”

Ori nodded, bright red, “Not your fault, not in the slightest.”

“But why he looks so foul?” Bella asked, looking around her. Even some at the other table looked tense.

Ori blushed darker and dropped his gaze, “Miss Baggins.... You were gone for the entire day...”

“We didn’t know where you could have gotten to.” Fíli added.

Ori fiddled with his fingers, “We thought you might have decided to leave the Company.”

“What?” Bella was incredulous.

“This morning, Bifur woke up all of a sudden, he was beside himself like I never seen him before, ” the eldest prince explained, “He was shaking and muttering something none of us could quite understand. When Oín and Bofur finally managed to calm him down, they worked out that he was upset because you were gone and none of us knew where you could have been.”

“Bofur kept joking of how the elves might have seen you walking by and noticing your pretty hair and pointy ears might have decided to steal you for themselves, but I know it was just for show, he was very concerned too.” Ori went on.

“...Thorin had us out looking for you the entire morning.” Finished Fíli.

Bella didn’t know how to respond at that. She found herself quite wordless. She looked around the tables, at her companions. Well, now she understood some of the murmurs and the looks that had been sent into her direction and Dori’s foul mood, but somehow it only made her all the more confused.

“I wandered off,” she explained at last to her companions. “I wanted to explore.” Though she couldn’t quite explain that all she had wanted was to cast a little distance between her and the dwarf king and his merry band as well.

Balin weaved a hand, dismissing the matter, “You are here, now. That’s all that matters.”

Dori tsked.

“Brother, _please_!”

Bella shook her head, “No, Ori, he’s right, I was late and it was unkind from me.” She turned to the tailor, smiling, “My own grandmother always said that I was a laggard. I should never have kept you waiting, I apologize.” she made no apology for her choice of clothing, the dwarves had no right to have any reserves on it.

Nonetheless she had obtained the effect she wanted. Dori accepted the apology with a nod and silently hid his powdered, up-turned nose behind his cup.

Ori, who was clearly astounded in seeing his eldest brother quieted for once, turned to her, blushing, “Don’t you listen to him, I think you look very beautiful, Miss Baggins.”

“Thank you, Ori. You too look so handsome.” They all did, Bella saw. All thirteen dwarves looked nothing like the bloody, dusty lot that walked into the gates of Rivendell the day before. They all looked cleaner and wore fresh, colorful garments and shining ornaments. They all had combed and braided their hair in artful ways and adorned them with glittering beads. Even the axe embedded in Bifur’s head looked polished.

But, still, all eyes were one her, and not only the Company’s. Thrice she caught serving-Elves that were passing by to pour the wine or serve a course staring at her with curious eyes and thrice she adverted hers. They have never seen a hobbit, Bella told herself. With her pointy-ears and her flowing, silken dress that concealed entirely her furry feet they were probably wondering if she was some kind if elf too, that’s all.

Alas, her companions had noticed the looks as well, “Our Burglar seem to attract a great deal of attention,” Fíli pointed out, grinning.

“Why wouldn’t she? Miss Baggins tonight looks radiant.” Balin added, eyes looking at everything, missing nothing, “All the elves passing by couldn’t take their eyes off you.”

Bella blushed and smiled at the praise, but the looks made her uneasy. She felt like in the bath, bare to the sight. “Let them look.”

“Oh, looks can be dangerous, Bella.” Fíli said nodding towards the second table, “The lads down there don’t fancy the way the elves are looking at you.”

When Bella turned she saw Bofur and Kíli glaring at every serving-Elf that cought eye with her. Even Dwalin was scowling and Bifur, who looked grim most of the time, had fire in his wide, grey eyes.

Her cheeks were burning and she hoped they would stop, but Bofur had other plans, “Balin!” he called out, “switch seats!”

Balin shot him a look, brows furrowed, “forget it! When will I ever again have the chance to sit next to such a beauty?”

Floppy-hat did not gave up, “Fíli?”

“In your dreams, Bofur!” the prince said.

Embarrassed, Bella hid her flush against her wine cup. It was a red, fruity and fresh. She looked down at the table; there were salads, seed cakes, fried bread, boiled eggs, grilled tomatoes, lemon tarts, high cups filled with strawberries and whipped cream, other great varieties of fruits and so much more!

She knew, by now, that dwarves did not really fancy vegetables. Or elvish food. Or elvish vegetables, for that matter. After a few moments, Bella realized that none of her companions had touched anything on the table. She raised her eyes and found they were all staring at her, again.

She leaned to whisper in Balin’s ear, “Don’t tell me they still think the food is poisoned.”

Balin snorted, “No, you already made sure of that yesterday, Miss Baggins. As you may have noticed before, dwarves aren’t overly fond of vegetables.”

“Indeed, I noticed.”

Unlike her companions, she didn’t need any encouragement. Bella forked the lattuce in her bowl, brought it to her mouth and chewed lustily. It was delicious.

Still, none other dared to eat a morsel. Except Bombur, who probably was so hungry he would end up eating the whole table, too. Bella wasn’t sure salads and seed cakes would be enough to satisfy the big dwarf’s hunger. And Dori, who she remembered, was the only one who nibbled at some the ‘green food’ in her pantry...And emptied her serves of red wine. She watched young Ori, across the table, picking up a lattuce leaf from his plate. He looked at it quite dubiously.

“Try it. Just a mouthful.” Dori prompted to his youngest brother, gesturing with his cup of wine.

Ori pouted, “I don’t like green food.”

Bella snorted around her sip of wine. Between the two tables, she heard some more mournful protests;

“Where’s the meat?” Dwalin barked as he dug into the bowls of salads placed in front of him.

Óin stabbed a piece of cucumber with his knife and held it above his eyes inspecting it with a judicious air, he gave a grunt.

“Have they got any chips?” Ori asked as he searched the table for something more tasty to eat.

Bella rolled her eyes. “Now, now, Ori. It’s not that bad.”

“But Miss Baggins, I don’t like- ”

“- Green food.” She said with him, “I know...in truth... I just thought that if even the elves manage to feed themselves with vegetables maybe mighty dwarves such as yourselves could manage as well...” Bella said innocently.

The boy reddened and hunched in his shoulders. He finally picked up a leaf from his bowl and reluctantly brought it to his mouth, chewing awkwardly, with a rather disgusted look on his face. But he ate everything all the same. Bella snorted at the sight. In truth, the lad was an absolute pip. Clever, but in desperate need of a confidence boost. She looked around, and as she imagined , the other dwarves were staring blankly at her, mouths slack.

Bella smiled at them, challenging, “Try it, I dare you.”

In less than a couple of minutes, all the plates of the first course of salads had been licked clean. The brave dwarves of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield on a quest to retake a kingdom invaded by a dragon, couldn’t really let some ‘elvish-greenfood’ get the best of them, could they?

The banquet went on quite well, a small band was playing for them as they dined. A tall, dark-haired elleth was playing the high-harp in a melodic tune, accompanied by another playing a long, silver flute.

Bella sat quietly, reflecting about what she had discovered in the library, that morning. Or rather, on what she had not discovered. If truly in this valley there was someone who could solve the riddle of the map, as Gandalf hinted, she couldn’t really be sure if the dwarves were willing to surrender their secrets. Moreover, she was sure Thorin would never surrender their secrets to the elves. He had been clear on that point... And she also reflected on what fíli had told her; Thorin had the whole Company out to look for her...

She glanced at the Dwarf King at Lord Elrond’s high table. He looked at ease, though probably his limbs were tense and stiff as that oaken-shield of his, as uneasy as the others. Thorin was eating quietly, listening to something Gandalf was saying, brow furrowed and eyes intent.

_‘That doesn’t concern you.’_

His words were ringing in her hears like a bell. It was enough to make her head spin. To calm her thoughts, Bella took a long sip from her cup. If her head had to spin, let it be for the wine. But it was not enough and her thoughts would not cease to torment her.

“Ori,” Bella whispered, tapping her knuckles on the table to catch the lad’s attention. As the others were busy chatting amongst themselves, she leaned over and very carefully asked, “If you had the possibility to unfold a secret, a secret that could help you solve a big, huge problem, would you risk to find the answer, even if it was in the hands of people you don’t trust?”

Point taken. Ori stumbled with his words, “Miss Baggins... The decision is not mine, I have no means to-”

“-Yes, but if you could? Wouldn’t you do it? I tried to find the answers on my own, but I couldn’t find anything in the library. I know we are not supposed to speak of the map and the key, much less of the quest, but I don’t think is clever to-”

“- In the library?” Ori inquired curious, “You mean a library here, in Rivendell? That’s where you have been the entire day, Miss Baggins?”

“Yes.”

“How did you found your way through, Miss?”

“The door wasn’t looked. All I had to do was push it open.”

Ori looked at her as if she’d just told him that the sky is green, “That’s queer,” he said confused, “Libraries are meant to contain valuable texts and precious artifacts, vaults of knowledge, jealously guarded. There’s a library in Erebor too, you know? A vast one, full of the most precious books, text and scrolls you could ever imagine!”

Bella listened raptured, “Tell, tell!”

Ori was about to open his mouth to speak, when all of a sudden he remembered something quite important, “I shouldn’t be talking about it, Miss.” He said at last with an apologetic look, “Besides, likely the library in Erebor is lost, now.”

“How do you lose a library?”

“In a storm of fire, Miss.”

“Oh.” That again. Bella felt silly for keeping forgetting about Smaug.

She took another sip of wine, lifted her gaze and met Thorin’s eyes from across the balcony. He was staring at her... she didn’t know for how long he had been staring, but as soon as her green eyes set into his blues, Bella felt a shiver running down her spine. Had he heard the conversation between her and Ori?

After a moment, she realized his was not an harsh look. Oh, she had got plenty of those from him, nor was he looking at her the way he did earlier, when he was eyeing her dress. No, he was looking at her right in her eyes with a look of... Pondering? Not the stern, judicious air full of mock resentment of the night they met each other, but rather a faint flame of curiosity, or at least as much he let through his blazing, blue eyes. Thorin Oakenshield kept staring at her, and soon gooseflesh pimpled her bare arms.

Bella could feel the rising heat of her blush down her chest, just above her cleavage. None of her earlier defiance could help her know, for he was not observing her clothing, but her eyes. She gathered up her courage and smiled up at him. Thorin once more, inclined his head and turned back his attention towards Gandalf and Lord Elrond.

Balin noticed her flush, “Oh, lass, no need to feel embarrassed. You are a grown woman, pleasing to the eyes, you ought to be used to male attention by now.” he said smiling, patting her hand fondly.

Bella startled from the haze and turned to the old dwarf. Had he noticed the exchange of looks between her and Thorin? “Oh, I would say in the Shire, male attention is more keen towards food, mead and pipeweed.”

“You mean you have no suitors in the Shire? I don’t believe that.”

“No. We have many fools in the Shire.”

Balin snorted, “Well, such a cheeky line won’t get you far with them.”

“That was my intention.”

He chuckled, “Well, cheeky lines certainly will get you far with me. You are a sharp, little lassie, Miss Baggins.”

Bella smiled. “Thank you, Balin. You have always been kind to me.”

“Sweet child.” He patted her hand again. “Well, you may not enjoy the attention of your Hobbit fellows, but I have a feeling you’ll have to the endure some from the lads.” The old dwarf whispered in an air of complicity.

“Master Balin!”

“I mean it! Fíli, here next to you, is looking as proud and smug as cat who has cream for its supper. Not to talk about the way our Bofur has been looking at you the whole evening.” he shot her a knowing look and Bella flushed even more, hiding her cheeks behind her cup.

“And I am afraid it would take only one of your smiles to make young Ori, over there, burst into flames.”

Bella laughed, flipping her silky locks behind one bare shoulder, “flatterer.”

“I speak the truth,” Balin nodded toward the second table, “even some of the old hens over there are fussing over you, and Kíli... Oh, what in Mahal’s name...” he trailed off, frowning.

Bella followed his line of sight, green eyes alight with interest on the scene unfolding before her. Kíli, at the other table, was staring intently, brown eyes as big as a pup’s at the tall, dark-haired harpist Elleth. Her long, pale fingers trailed delicately across the thin, silver cords of the high harp, pinching them lightly, coaxing a melodic tune. Her dark eyes were slightly tilted upward at the end, like a cat’s.

If she was in some way flustered or troubled by Kíli’s gaze, she hid it well. In fact, Bella suspected that the maiden didn’t minded it at all. She was staring back at Kíli with an air of faint indifference. Kíli was positively smoldering, his lips twitched upward in a smile that was clearly intended to be suave, but it turned out so sweet and clumsy that all Bella could think was: ‘pup.’

Kíli went and winked at the elleth. Bella bursted into giggles at the scene, hiding them beneath her hand. Unfortunately, not everyone at the tables seemed to find the scene amusing as it was for her. Dwalin glared ant the younger dwarf, chiding.

His harsh gaze had the boy instantly drop his eyes to his plate. Kíli shook his head, “Can’t say I fancy Elf-maids myself,” he said innocently, “too thin.”

Dwalin raised his dark eyebrows, in mock-earnest.

“They’re all high cheekbones and creamy skin,” he went on, looking between Dwalin and Bofur next to him to make his point, “Not enough facial hair form me,”

Bofur nodded in a sarcastic way that made Bella laugh even more. Red wine always made her giggly.

Kíli shot a glance to an elf passing by behind him, “Although, that one there’s not bad.” He said confidently, with a wolfish smirk.

Dwalin had only to glance up at the elf Kíli motioned toward to, and even the hard line of his mouth twitched upward, “That’s not an elf-maid.” He whispered to the poor, unknowing lad.

The dark-haired prince frowned and shot another glance up at the elf that was indeed... An Ellon not an Elleth.

Kíli’s dark eyes widened in realization and he turned back to stare at Dwalin, abashed. Dwalin winked at him playfully and soon all of the dwarves, who were clearly paying silent attention at the scene as Bella, bursted into loud barks of laughter.

Kíli reddened, “Yeah, funny. Very funny!”

Bella thought back about what Lady Arwen told her about the Half-Elves and flouting convention...truly, she had asked to prevent herself from reveling her true purpose of searching answer for the riddle of the map, but she was also curious. After all, didn’t her grandfather always claimed that all the Tooks descended from a fairy?

“Would that be so bad? To fancy an elf? ” she whispered to Fíli next to her, “I mean, I understand that between dwarves and elves there’s bad blood, but maybe..?”

The eldest prince snorted, “Nah. Kíli’s just being Kíli. Probably the lads won’t hold that against him.” He chuckled, “Especially after that scene.”

“Hold that against him? And why? I don’t think there’s nothing wrong. Besides, you don’t have to hate each other just for some old feud.”

Fíli sighed, “Ah, I’m afraid it’s something a little bit more complicated than just a feud.”

“How so?”

He hesitated, “Ah...Bella, I don’t want to be rude, especially for what you have done for me and my brother, but-”

“- but you can’t tell me, right?”

“No, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t be.” In truth, she was curious to know and found it difficult not to pest for aswers, but Fíli meant well, and Ori too. If they said they couldn’t tell her, it must have been so. She really ought to learn to try control her curiosity better. Bella took a sip of her cup and kept quiet.

“I still think it’s unfair, though.” She blurted out, at last. “Why fancy someone of a different race would be a crime?”

“I see your point, Bella, but then again, it’s complicated.” The blond prince glanced over across the balcony, “Good thing Thorin didn’t noticed, or else we would be seeing fumes coming out of his ears.”

Bella focused her attention toward Lord Elrond’s high table. Thorin was presenting his new weapon, the long sword he found at the Troll’s lair.

 The Elven Lord was examining the blade, holding it above his head with a judicious air, “This is Orcrist, the Goblin-cleaver. A famous blade, forged by the High Elves of the West. My kin.” He gave the sword back to Thorin, “May it serve you well.”

Thorin inclined his head lightly in a respectful manner.

Now, it was the turn of Gandalf’s sword, “And this is Glamdring. The Foe-hammer, sword of the King of Gondolin. These swords were made for the Goblin wars of the First…”

As Lord Elrond explained how the swords were made, Bella took out the short-sword that Gandalf had given her and looked at it curiously, wondering what might be its history.

Balin next to her noticed her fussing, “Wouldn’t bother, lassie. Swords are named for their great deeds they do in war.”

Bella raised a curious brow, “What are you saying, my sword hasn’t seen battles?”

The old dwarf frowned, “I’m not actually sure it is a sword. More of a letter opener, really.”

Bella looked at him in askance and rolled her eyes. Males and sizes, really...

She turned back to the high table, “How did you come by these?” Lord Elrond was asking.

“We found them in a troll hoard on the Great East road, shortly before we were ambushed by orcs.” Gandalf said around a mouthful of lemon tarts, his long, grey beard covered in crumbs.

Elrond’s grey eyes narrowed, “And what were you doing on the Great East road?”

Bella saw Thorin stiffen. He stood from his chair, “Excuse me,” then wandered farther from the table, staring off beyond the parapets of the balcony, into the setting sun. He pulled out a tiny, silver flask and began to drink.

Bella observed the scene closely. This is no good. She decided. The Dwarf King was insufferable. He had not the least intention to even attempt to trust. It was so frustrating, to just watch from afar. Traveling on the road, she felt helpless, on the back foot. But, here in Rivendell, she felt like she could finally be helpful. Dealing with orcs and trolls and hidden riddles was easier through the pages of books. But she hadn’t been able to find the answer she needed in the vast library, and without Lord Elrond’s help, they may never find it at all. Her unease had her reach for wine again, but her cup proved empty. Thankfully, a serving-elf came promptly by to refill her cup.

“Thirteen dwarves and a halfling.” Elrond said as he raised his glass of wine to his lips, “Strange traveling companions, Gandalf.”

Bella saw Gandalf hesitate, “These are the descendants of the House of Durin!” he motioned toward the Company, “They are noble, decent folks!”

the wizard exclaimed just as Nori, from his table, slipped a small, silver carafe inside his coat, looking carefully around him. He caught Bella scowling at him and winked in an air of complicity. Bella turned her head away, rolling her eyes as she drank her second cup of wine all at once. Yes, noble, decent folks indeed!

“And they are surprisingly cultured,” the wizard went on, “they’ve got a deep love of the arts...”

Nori shook his head in annoyance and turned to address the flute player, “Change the tune, why don’t you!?” I fee like I am at a funeral!”

“Is somebody’s diyin’?!” Óin demanded loudly, trumpet fast in his ear.

Bofur grinned, “Oh, alright, lads. There’s only one thing for it!”

He stood and climbed up on the table in a clatter of silverware and pewter cups. The others gave loud cheers as they raised their eyes to the floppy-hatted toymaker. Bofur took a deep breath, opening his arms toward the high table as Lord Elrond frowned upon the scene.

It took her a moment too long to realize what was happening before her eyes. Suddenly her head felt light and eyeshadow felt heavy, and Bella realized Bofur’s intentions a little slowly.

“Tell me he’s not-”

_“Theeeereee’s aaaaannn... Inn – there’s an Inn, there’s a merry, ol’ Inn, beneath an ol’ grey hill! And there they brewed a beer sooo brown...”_

Bofur started singing for all of them to hear, in a deep, clear voice, stomping his boots on the table, making the forks and the knives clatter loudly upon the wood.

Balin snorted in amusement, leaning in to answer her half-spoken question, “He is.”

_“... The man on the moon himself came down one night to drink his fill...”_

the others soon joined, jolly as you please, cheering and raising their glasses merrily at the tune.

_“... OooHh, the Oster has a tipsy cat that plays a five-stringed fiddle...”_

Bella, helplessly began to smile and clap in time with the tune, she recognized that song! It was a slightly different version of the most renowned drinking-song in the Shire, one she heard so many times at the Green Dragon Inn ; _‘The Cat and The Moon’._

_“...And up and down he saw his bow, now squeaking hiiiiiiighhhhh!!!! Now purring loooooowwwww...”_

It was chaos! Bifur began keeping tempo with his fork and knife, banging them loudly on the wood, between the two tables. Food began to fly in every direction. Gandalf was positively ignoring the matter as he attended casually to his plate, while Lord Elrond watched with an exasperated look the scene unfolding before his eyes. Behind him, the elf Lindir stood stiff and pale as a marble column, a look of horror and faint distaste flashed through his ancient eyes. Bella turned away, unable to bear the embarrassment and was rewarded with quite an unexpected sight;

Thorin was smiling! Thorin Oakenshield was dancing and smiling, of all things!

He was stomping his boots hard upon the balcony floor in a jig, arms crossed and a grin on his face that reached his eyes. His mouth had curled upward in one-sided grin, made more attractive by the crinckling lines underneath his blue eyes and they way they shined... It was like the glistening light of the sun upon the deep blue sea.

Her heart swelled with bliss and delight and tickling fingers ran down her bare arms and neck. Her cheeks felt warm and her mouth almost hurt for smiling too much. As she watched him, Bella suddenly wished she could catch his eyes, to make him look at her... Someone must have heard her prayer, Yavanna or some other, trickster Valar, because in that moment Thorin raised his eyes to hers.

A quick glimpse that had him stop in his tracks and caused his smile to fall away. It was replaced with one of his infamous scowls. His blue eyes pinned her in place in an almost chiding stare. Bella darted her eyes away, flushing and giggling like a some wicked little girl. Indeed, red wine had always made her giggly

Her girlish laughter were interrupted when Bofur abruptly jumped to their table. Landing with a heavy thud, making it shake beneath his boots he looked down at her, smirking, brown eyes dancing as his feet. Floppy-hat extended one arm toward her, caught her hand firmly, yanking her off her seat and pulling her up on the table as easy as he would have lifted a raggedy doll.

Next thing she knew, she was on top of the table, plates and silverware clattering beneath her feet. Bofur had grabbed her by her arms and pulled her close. He was spinning her and twirling her until her head too spun and she really felt as jerky and light as a doll. And the dwarves were all around her,laughing and singing in a cheerful roar whilst Bofur kept spinning her around in a dizzy jig. Floppy-hat would not stop and Bella was begging to fear that the next spin would turn her loose to vomit. The others kept cheering and roaring and banging on the tables in time with the tune.

_“...So the cat on his fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle, a jig that would wake the dead, he squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune, while the landlord shook the man on the moon; ‘It’s after three’ he said!”_

The song ended in thunderous cheers as food kept flying from one table the other. Somehow, Bella managed to disentangle herself from the miner dwarf – or finally Bofur took pity on her and decided to let her go, at last – and almost went stumbling about in a clutter of cups and silverware. Thankfully she kept her feet, gathererd up her skirts and her little sword, that went falling as she twirled, and plopped off the table, fastening the scabbard awkwardly on her shoulder.

She was breathless, her hair was a mess and her cheek felt hot from embarrassment of being seen by Lord Elrond and his court spin like a spinning top on top of the table. Well, at least she didn’t gag.

The world would not be still. In the middle of roars and laughter Bella noticed Nori, taking advantage of the clamor, had put his greasy fingers at use, pocketing every piece of silverware he came across.

Bella waddled over, seized the dwarf’s hands and grabbed Lord Elrond’s silver forks. Bella carried the precious cutlery as far away from the ruffian as possible, holding them protectively against her chest, when she cought winds of the murmurs at Elrond’s high table.

He was whispering something in Lindir’s ear and Bella quickly jumped up and about, trying to ignore the dizziness caused by the wine and from all that spinning. _Am I going to be sick?_

Luckily, she didn’t. “Lord Elrond... I – I wanted to thank you for the banquets. The evening has been lovely.” She blurted out, trying to sound as composed as possible. Hoping to get the Elven Lord’s attention away from the mess the dwarves were making of the tables.

Lord Elrond’s grey eyes softened as he looked down at her, “My pleasure, Bella of the Shire.” he glanced behind her shoulders, “I hope your companions will be pleased as well. I know the food was-“

“Nourishing.” She cut in gently. “I can tell from the clamor. I believe it’s their way to express that they had enjoined the evening.” Bella said, attempting to sound believable.

Lord Elrond smiled l, though it did not reach his eyes, “Yes, I quite noticed.” He glanced behind him, where Lindir was fretting, trying to clean the remains of a pie that Kíli had thrown right into the head of a high relief stone-carved maiden.

A hand touched her shoulder and Bella turned to find Gandalf standing, staff in hand, “So quick-witted!”

“Well, at least one of us has to be.” She then sighed, “This is no good. Do you think Lord Elrond would be more apt to help us or to send us away, should Thorin reveal to him the Company’s purpose?”

Gandalf chuckled, “With how the evening went... I’ll admit, the possibility have thinned.

“These dwarves are their own worst enemy.”

The grey wizard’s eyes gleamed softly as he fasted his pointy hat. “Don’t lose hope just yet, My dear girl. You can still turn it around.”

Bella looked up at him, bewildered, “Me? What can I do to make Lord Elrond help the Company?”

“ _Enormity_.” Was Gandalf’s reply. “As I told you, this is to be handled with tact, respect and charm.” He shot her a look, “I’d say you managed splendidly so far.”

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness washed over her, making her head light and her knees buckle. Bella stepped back and went bumping against something hard at her shoulders. She turned and met Thorin’s blue eyes looking down at her.

Lord Elrond stood from his chair, “I do believe it’s time to discuss some private matters. ” Gandalf’s gleaming eyes fixed in Thorin’s blues.

The dwarf King’s stare hardened for a moment, but then he gave a nod, “Very well. Balin, come with us, and... You as well Miss Baggins,” he said turning his gaze on her.

“Yes, of course.” She blurted out, thinking she didn’t heard him correctly, “... Wait, what?”

“You heard, lassie.” Balin stood from his pillow with little difficulty and offered her his arm, “I won’t lie, I don’t really like the idea of sharing the secrets of the map with the Elven Lord,” he whispered.

“But, Balin, even if Lord Elrond’s help would solve the riddles of map? You cannot possibly think it would not be helpful, surely.”

Balin frowned, “Ah, Miss Baggins. There are secrets that simply can’t be shared.” he patted her hand fondly as he urged her on, “Besides, I have never known a dwarf who ever gained something in sharing secret with an elf.”

“And now you’ll know thirteen dwarves who’d lost their chance of taking back their Mountain for mere stubbornness.” Bella blurted out, unable to prevent herself.

Balin shot her a look, arching a serious, white brow, “Careful, Miss Baggins, your wit is no guarantee of wisdom.”

“And stubbornness is no guarantee of clarity.”

The old dwarf tossed his head back and erupted into laughter, “Is that so? And pray, what would you suggest, Miss?”

“A compromise.”

“A compromise? You intend a bargain.” Balin sighed, “I have lived long enough to know that a compromise would get us only a part of what we want. It’s a risk, lass.”

“But taking this risk would get us onto the path, even if only to get half as far.”

“We already have a path to follow, little Hobbit.” The old dwarf said fiercely.

“No. You are standing at a crossroad, still mulling over which one to follow,” the Hobbit answered just as fierce, “ is it going to be stubbornness, or is it going to be the chance you have always dreamed of?”

 

 

The pale scythe of a cressent moon painted the marble halls of Rivendell in a spectral light.candind pillars stood white as bones against the dark, quiet night...

Or what would have been a quiet night if not for the loud protests and the fierce complaints of a certain grey wizard and a stubborn dwarf King.

“Our business is no concern of Elves. ” Thorin stood with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

Gandalf’s scowl was just as dark, “For goodness sake,Thorin, show him the map!”

The Dwarf King stood his ground, “It is the legacy of my people. It’s mine to protect! As are its secrets.”

Bella rolled her eyes, they both looked fit to start stomping their feet and tear at their hair, yelling at each other like two children.

Meanwhile, Balin was walking back and forth, hands on his hips, his white brows furrowed and was mumbling something under his breath. Bella eyed the old dwarf worriedly. She had been quite bold, speaking to him the way she did, earlier.

Gandalf sighed heavily, “Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves! Your pride will be your downfall! You stand here in the presence of one of the few in Middle-earth who can read that map. Show it to Lord Elrond!”

Thorin’s eyes emptyed as he reluctantly took out the map from his pockets.

Balin’s eyes widened, “Thorin, no!”

Thorin ignored Balin’s protests and gave the map to Elrond, The Elven Lord unfolded it, sweeping his stark eyes upon the thick, brown paper, “Erebor,” he exclaimed as his grey eyes widened, “What is your interest in this map?”

 _Yavanna saves us all._ Bella thought.

Thorin was about to open his mouth to answer, but, thankfully, Gandalf was quicker, “It’s mainly academic,” the wizard said hurriedly, “As you know, this sort of artifacts sometimes contains hidden text.”

Thorin shot Gandalf an incredulous look. Gandalf gave him a nod, then turned toward Bella, whoose look was even more incredulous and winked at her with one, gleaming eye.

Bella had to hold back a snort, trying to solve the riddle of the runes and yet, keeping secret the whole purpose of them all at once. Well, Gandalf was certainly a master in being subtle, but the look in Elrond’s grey eyes had Bella believe that the Elven Lord was suspecting something. He stepped across the hall, holding the map above his head, inspecting it.

“You still read ancient dwarvish, do you not?” Gandalf wanted to know.

“ _Cirth ithil_ ” Elrond mused as he inspected the map against the silver moonlight.

“Ah! Moon runes,” Gandalf exclaimed as he turned towards Bella, “Of course. An easy thing to miss.”

Bella nodded, arching a brow, “Of course.”

“Well in this case, that is true,” Elrond said to them as he walked in front of Thorin, “Moon runes can only be read by the light of the moon of the same shape and season as the day on which they were written.”

Thorin stepped up, eyes alight, “Can you read them?”

 

 

Lord Elrond led them through a dark pillared alley until they reached an arched gate carved out of bare, grey stone.

Once they stepped right through it there was only the dark of the night, the chilly splashes of the waterfalls above their heads, gleaming in the pale, crescent moonlight, and the valley below. Cool wind flapped at her dress and brushed damp fingers through her hair.

Lord Elrond walked upon the stoney cliff until he reached a high slab of clear stone, as transparent as glass. The slab captured the moonlight, making the queer stone glow white.

“These runes were written on a Midsummer’s eve, by the light of a crescent moon nearly two hundred years ago,” Lord Elrond explained as he turned toward Thorin, “It would seem you were meant to come to Rivendell. Fate is with you, Thorin Oakenshield. The same moon shines upon us tonight.”

“Midsummer’s eve?” Bella pulled at Gandalf’s robe, “Spring is not done, yet. How can this be the same moon?”

Gandalf looked down at her, “You may not know, Miss Baggins, that Elves’s perception of seasons is rather different from hobbits’. For you, it might be late spring, but for an elf, it’s the middle of summer.”

Lord Elrond placed the map on the stone-quarzt, right under the pale scythe, and as the moon shined upon the map, making it glow, until it revealed the secret runes upon the thick, brown parchment.

Thorin glanced up to look at the Elven Lord and then high up in the sky, his blue eyes burned as he stared at the crescent scythe of the moon. Bella herself stared wide-eyed as Lord Elrond examined the glowing runes, “ ‘ _Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin’s Day will shine upon the keyhole.’_ ” he read out loud.

Bella pulled at Gandalf’s robe again, vehemently, “ _Durin’s Day?_ ”

Gandalf looked down at her, again, “It is the start of the dwarves’ new year, when the last moon of Autumn and the first sun of Winter appear in the sky together.” He explained.

Thorin stroked his chin, his eyes distant and fixed into nothing, “This is ill news. Spring is almost past, Durin’s Day will soon be upon us.” He said.

Balin shot Bella a strange look, before, all of a sudden he stepped up, “We still have time.”

“Time for what?” Bella pulled once more at Gandalf’s robe, tugging harder. The Wizard scowled, yanking his robe away from her grasp.

It was Balin who answered her question, “To find the entrance,” he turned to face Thorin, “We have to be standing at exactly the right spot, at exactly the right time. Then, and only then, can the door be opened.”

It took her a heartbeat to realize what the old dwarf had just revealed. Bella held her breath and braced herself. She could scarcely believe she heard correctly, but she did.

And so did Lord Elrond, “So this is your purpose, to enter the mountain.”

Thorin’s eyes narrowed, “What of it?”

“There are some who would not deem it wise.” Elrond said softly as he gave the map back to his legitimate owner. Thorin took the parchment and folded almost greedily back into his pockets.

Without further words, Elrond turned back on his heels and began to head back inside his halls.

Gandalf frowned and went after him, “What do you mean?”

Elrond turned to him, “You are not the only guardian to stand watch over Middle-earth.”

And then, they both disappeared through the gate together, leaving Bella, Balin and Thorin on the edge of the cliff.

Balin sighed, “It is done, then. The Elven Lord now knows.”

Thorin’s blue eyes darkened, “It doesn’t matter. Not anymore. The Elven Lord solved the mystery of the runes and that’s more than enough,” he stroked his dark beard, “Besides, I am ready to wager that he suspected about our plans all along. As much he had hinted earlier, at supper.”

Balin hummed thoughtfully, stroking his long, white beard. Tired blue eyes turned to look at her, before turning back to Thorin “do we have to worry about him?”

Thorin pondered a moment, “No. He may think that our plans are not wise, but I don’t believe he will try to stop us.”

Bella let out her breath and smiled to herself. It seemed that someone had overcame his ostility toward the Elven Lord.

“And if by chance he does, we’ll take all their pretty bows and snap them against our knees.”

Bella’s smile fell as quickly as it curled her lips. The dwarf was a stubborn as a bull.

Balin nodded, “Very well. I suppose we can all go and get some rest.” He and Thorin shared a look, as Balin walked up beside Bella. He glanced up and down at her and then shook his head, snorting, “should the elves attempt to stop us, I’m sure they would stole our Miss Baggins to themselves.”

Bella smiled, bushing lightly. Balin shook his head again and began to head back inside the hall, “Ah, if only I were a century younger!” he exclaimed as he walked past Thorin and disappeared through the arched gate.

Thorin’s lips curled slightly, he bit back a snort and lowered his eyes, thoughtful. They remained alone on the edge of the cliff, the wind blowing gentle and cool, pimpled her bare arms and made her curls flurry. Bella fiddled with her fingers and bit her lower lip, unsure of what to do or say. The last time she remained alone with Thorin it did not ended well.

Thorin took no notice of her lingering presence. The dwarf King was staring off into the valley below, lost in his thoughts as he had been the night before, outside the balcony. Bella adjusted the belt of the scabbard that hang loosely upon her shoulder and began to head back inside, “Goodnight,” she called softly as she walked past Thorin.

“Miss Baggins.” He called suddenly.

Bella turned hesitantly, “Yes?”

Thorin’s eyes did not stir from his thoughts, yet he did gave her a long searching look, “Why did you took the blame ?” he asked all at once.

Cold fingers ran down her spine. So, the boys told him. Bella knew exactly what he talking about, “Because it was my fault, partly. I decided to step into the Troll’s lair and got caught... And because I didn’t wanted to turn the boys against the others. ” She admitted.

Thorin’s eyes widened before the narrowed, heavied by his dark scowl, “You should’ve told the truth.” His tone was cold, but not angry... Just serious.

It pricked her. “But I did.” She replied coolly. Something in the Dwarf King’s voice had her wish to throw a fit. She resisted that urge. “As I said, it was my decision to attempt to release the ponies.”

Thorin huffed, “It was, and how that worked out in the end? What do you suppose would have happened if we haven’t come along?”

“I would have died.” Heat rushed to her face, but she needed to say those words, “Thorin, you saved my life at the Trolls’ lair. If you hadn’t dropped your weapon, I – ”

“ – If we hadn’t dropped our weapons we wouldn’t have lost the ponies and now we wouldn’t find ourselves in this wretched Valley.” Thorin groaned, cutting her off at her attempt to thank him. He shook his head, “Though, you are not the only one to blame, Fíli and Kíli should’ve known better, they -”

“- why?” she was the one cutting him off, this time, “Because I am only a naive, little Hobbit? And shouldn’t be corcerned with such matters?!”

Thorin’s mouth became one hard line, “Because they let you face three mountain trolls alone and unarmed! And you have been indeed naive and foolish!”

 _‘If your regard me foolish and naive for stepping into three trolls, then you’ll think me a magnificent half-wit when I’ll face the dragon.’_ Bella wanted to say... but kept her mouth shut and lowered her eyes. Somehow she knew that saying it wouldn’t really change Thorin’s opinion. All of a sudden she realized one fondamental truth; her own reckless deed to prove herself worthy had only resulted in demonstrate her own stupidity and uselessness.

“Where have you been all day, if is legit ask?” The dwarf’s voice snapped her from her thoughts.

“Pardon?”

“I had the entire Company looking for you, out in this wretched, elvish valley, where have you gotten to?”

 _‘In a library, unsuccessfully attempting to help you, you majestic idiot!’_ instead, she said, “But why of course, consorting with the elves. Where else did you think I got this dress?”

Thorin’s dark brow furrowed, turning his cold expression into into utter exasperation. He rolled his eyes, groaning. “Well, if your new friends love you so, they might decide to keep you as a pet, instead of remaining in the Company.”

Bella hummed, “Well, I’d say one option is just as detestable as the other.” Without further words, she swept back inside the halls, the smooth silk of her dress trailed behind her, flapping in the cool wind of the night.

 

 

When she finally made it back to their quarters, Bella found Balin at the bottom of the marble stairs. Up above, in their chambers, the dwarves were making a clamor. Sounds of fiddles playing and indistinct crashes echoed throughout the settlement.

Balin was smoking his pipe. Ribbons of grey smokes curled around the bulky, hunched figure of the old dwarf. It was a reassuring sight. Ever since early childhood, Bella had learned to take comfort in the smell of pipeweed. She remembered when she was bounced on the knees of Her father, her grandfather and many of her uncles, and learned to tell them apart from the redolent scents of herbs and flowers. The familiar smell was what had her find the courage to approach Gandalf in the first place. The youngest children lived in terror of him, but the sight of perfect smoke rings that seemed to take life, had Bella decide that the old fellow could not be that scaresome.

The old dwarf turned to her as she begun to climb up the stairs, Bella gave him a long, searching look. “What is it, lass?” he asked.

“All night I had the most reckless impulse to do something.”

“Aye, I didn’t fancy you as a jolly table-dancer, but I must admit, you were quite a sight.”

Bella snorted, “I wasn’t talking about that.”

“You mean the impulse to reveal our true intention to our wise Lord Elrond? Well, I must confess, my dear Miss Baggins, I too had struggled with the same impulse for a while.”

“If you mean to fool me telling me that the secret of our true intentions had just slipped out of your mouth, I’m not buying it, Master Balin.”

Balin’s mouth curled upward, but his smile did not reach his eyes. “aren’t you the clever sort.” He sighed, “I fear our gracious Lord Elrond was not to be fooled either. It would have been pointless to keep the secret.”

“Despite your legendary grudge with the elves?”

“Despite our legendary grudge with the elves.”

“What about Thorin?”

The old dwarf sighed once more, heavily, “If Thorin said that the Elven Lord had his suspects from the beginning it means that he was resigned to the inevitable...” Balin’s eyes darkened, staring into nothing, “... But, alas, my King is stubborn, and when he sets his mind into something there is no changing it.”

Bella felt guilty. Earlier she spoke to the old dwarf with a boldness she had never known. ‘ _That doesn’t concerns you.’_ She should have known better than to let her mouth ran free. The wine had helped loose her tongue, but most of it was completely her own doing.

“I shouldn’t have spoken to you as I did earlier, I’m sorry.”

Balin snorted, “Sorry for what, lass? For being honest? Although,” he shot her a knowing look, “perhaps you should have been honest on other matters.”

Bella reddened and adverted her eyes, “I never meant to deceive you, what happened at the trolls’ lair is partly my fault, and - ”

“- partly,” Balin cut in gently, “Is not entirely.”

“But the ponies are lost because of me.”

“We are all still in one piece because of you.”

“That was Gandalf’s doing. I only managed to get ourselves tied up like sausages and almost cooked. ”

“Aye, and by your warm recommendation, but you played for time, allowing Gandalf to defeat those big half-wits. Now, he’s a wizard, and sure makes a splendid picture with his spells and his staff, but all the magic in Middle-Earth would have done nothing if you hadn’t tricked those trolls.”

“Thorin is not of the same mind.” Bella protested.

Balin made a dismissing noise, “Never you mind him. Thorin has always been that way, as far as I can remember...” he gave a long sigh, “You were right, the path of stubbornness would have been an easy one to follow, but we are on this quest to do what is right and not what is easy.”

Balin walked up to her and put a hand on her shoulder, giving it a fond squeeze, “Thank you for reminding me of that, Miss Baggins.” He gave her a weak smile and begun to make his way up the steps.

“What made you change your mind?” Bella heard herself say, “You said your secrets were the only pieces of a scattered armor, why then expose them?”

Balin turned to her, looking almost pained, “For the brave thing you said and for the brave deed you have done.”

“Brave deed?”

“For instance, I have never seen anyone stand up to Thorin without a sword. Even his own two nephews couldn’t step up to face him, but you did.”

That was a strange thing to hear, but Bella kept her thoughts for herself.

“Moreover, I’ve seen you slip past the trolls as swift as a gust of wind, invisible as a ghost.”

“Until I got myself captured.” She reminded him, unable to hold herself.

“Bella,” Balin said descending the steps to her and pinching her cheek, “Sweet girl, Though you are very dear and kind and pretty to boot, I’ll admit we all thought that there wasn’t much more in you to make a worthy Burglar for this quest, the night we came to your threshold... But if you don’t stop wandering around, whining and wailing in your distress, you’ll never earn the respect of those louts up there.” He tugged her cheek firmly, “Sometimes I believe you can be more stubborn than Thorin. If you had a beard and some big boots to fit those furry feet you could easily pass for a dwarf.” He smiled, “but you’re not, thank heavens. A dwarf would have hold onto grudges. Us dwarves can be such brooding great fools... But you could change that, I believe... even the mind of the kingly sort, who set on a quest to reclaim a kingdom and slay a dragon.”

 

 

Bella lingered in the gardens long after Balin disappeared up the marble steps and through the doors of their quarters. The faint scent of nucturnal flowers was like a friendly embrace, more cherished than pipeweed.

Pale moon flowers swung in the cool breeze, dancing to a silent tune. The lady fern brushed her legs, caressing her ankles as she advanced in the garden. A feeble jet poured from the fountain, into its green-stained tub, glistening in the moonlight.

Bella sat on the rim of the fountain, chin propped on her hand, studying her little nameless sword. Holding it, felt as strange and clumsy as it had been with the twisted trolls knife. Why fool with it? A child playing with a toy, that’s it.

Heavy footsteps made their way through the garden, crunching the soft grass, advancing to the fountain. Bella lifted her eyes and waited for the figure to take form out of the darkness.

“I found you. ”

Bella blinked. For a moment she thought it was Thorin... But instead of a scowling face, the dwarf had a floppy hat.

“What are ye doin’ down here?” Bofur asked.

Bella smiled, “What are you doing down here? Is the hullabaloo already over?”

“Nah,” the dwarf moved to sit next to her onto the brim of the fountain, “Thorin is not back yet, the lads will go on ‘til they’ll drop down swine-drunk, with their bellies full to burst.”

“No doubt.” Bella pondered for a moment and turned to the miner, “Bofur?”

“Aye?”

“What did you thought of me, the night you came at my doorstep?”

He grinned, “Well, I thought; ‘Why, hello there, who might this pretty lassie be?’”

Bella punched him lightly on the shoulder, “Ruffian! I meant... Did you thought I would have made a good Burglar?”

“No.” Bofur said calmly. “Truth be told, Bella, I thought that you were never going to sign that contract. By my beard, I was hoping you never would! But then you signed it and... I am glad you did.”

Bella looked at him, “You are?”

Bofur nudged his shoulder with hers, “Of course I am! Ya fun, kind... And ya have more guts than I first thought. By the way, I knew it wasn’t yer fault with the half-wits and the ponies,” he rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, “I mean, ya too clever.”

She blushed at the praise, “Thank you, Bofur... You, Bombur and Bifur had always been close to me. And thank for saving me from the trolls.”

Floppy-hat looked suddenly away, “Nah! It’s nothing. Ye are our Burglar. And we are friends, aren’t we?”

“We are.”

Bofur leaned in and sniffed her, “At least ya smell good, Now.”

“Huh?” annoyed she gave him a shove, “It’s not like the smell of flowers comes of you! I wasn’t lying, you know? When I said you lot stink.”

Bofur went stumbling down the rim and back onto his feet, laughing, “Aw, you’re being unfair, lass!” he gestured to his fresh-clean garments, “Nice and tidy as you please! And no trace of parasites!”

Bella bursted out laughing, holding her stomach until she was flushed and breathless.

Bofur smiled and stepped closer, “you have such a musical laughter,” he mused stroking his mustache and observing her closely, “I bet we have a lovely nightingale amongst the company, do you sing, Bella?”

“Not as good as you, I am sure! I’m afraid I am a better dancer than a singer.”

Bofur grinned, eyebrows raised “Oh, Aye? Remind me?”

He suddenly pulled her against him, wrapping a hand around her waist, and started to twirl her around the little garden, swaying more delicately than their jig on the table. Bella began to laugh until Bofur began spinning her around faster, humming under his breath. Bella was once more breathless and flushed.

By the time they stopped, Floppy-hat was still holding her in his arms when Bella raised her head and met his eyes.

Bofur was looking down at her face, with large, brown dancing eyes, the soft crinkles beneath his eyes thinned as his lips curled upward in as soft smile. He couldn’t be more than a decade older than Bella, at least in Hobbit’s years. His mustache and braids made him appear older than every hobbit lad in the Shire, but perhaps that was just because she had always considered the lads of the Shire rather child-like.

No, Bofur had a good face, a bright smile and clever dancing eyes and she didn’t minded the Crinckles beneath his eyes, she didn’t minded them at all...

Bofur smiled as he looked down at Bella, he reached out the hand he had not wrapped around her waist, and aimed for the silky locks that fell on her bare shoulders, as if wanting to caress them, stroke them.

He let that hand fall away, as he let go of her waist and stepped back. biting his lip, he lowered his eyes, “It’s late,” his voice was hoarse, “We should go back.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, I know. I've missed you terribly.
> 
> I had hoped to publish this chapter before Christmas... Somehow it's 2019 already and I longed to post again.
> 
> I wanted to say Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrated it, happy holidays to everyone who is celebrating a festivity and whatever you are doing, I hope you had peace during these winter festivities. 
> 
> As always, hope you enjoyed and see you soon, my darlings. <3

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back!
> 
> So, you may have noticed that I changed the prologue and added more room for Belladonna Took. That was one of the things I was not comfortable with in the original King and the Burglar fic. I always bee fascinated with bilbo's late mother, she was mentioned briefly in the Hobbit but was said to be an adventurer. I have half a mind to write a companion fic prequel of the king an the Burglar, focused on Belladonna Took and her adventures.  
> Anyway, I'll have the next chapters uploaded soon, I promise, and there will be major changes, Bella for once, I have come to hate my own version of fem!Bilbo. O realized i made her too kind, pretty and good hearted. I wanted to make her more flawed as a character. Bilbo himself is not only good hearted, he also has a temper (he snaps ant the dwarves every now and then on the book) he's clever but he's naive of the world outside the Shire and he cares much about Bag End, but gives everything to help the dwarves. I made my own character too pure and holy and I wanted to change her, I hope you'll like the new Bella :)


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